


The Last Summer

by queenhomeslice



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Awkward Crush, Camp Counselor Prompto Argentum, Chubby Reader, Curvy Reader, F/M, Implied First Time, Moving In Together, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Summer Camp, camp counselor reader, fat reader, joining the crownsguard, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25522264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: The third day of spring break in your first year of high school, Prompto climbs through your second-story bedroom window, yellow flier clutched in his hand."Dude," he says, breathless. "Do you wanna be a camp counselor with me?"
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Reader
Comments: 110
Kudos: 63





	1. 'cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way. 
> 
> _____
> 
> chapter titles from Taylor Swift's "Gorgeous"

Two days after graduation finds you in your room, packing for the two-month sleepaway camp that’s twenty miles south of Insomnia where you’ve been a counselor for three summers in a row. Well, soon to be four. While the outdoors isn’t exactly your forte, you can’t deny the cool survival skills that you’ve learned over the years, plus the pay is decent—car, soon, hopefully, yes?—you always come back with _something_ akin to tan (along with a million bug bites), the kids are fun, most of the time, besides. It gets you out of the house, is basically the only thing on your resume at this point in terms of “leadership,” and...and it nets you two beautiful, wonderful, _amazing_ months with the love of your life. Delicious, delicious torture—seeing as he doesn’t know that he’s totally made of boyfriend material. At least Prompto’s your best friend, you think idly as you dig out your trusted supply of shorts and camp shirts (seriously, three years at a camp gives a girl a _fuckton_ of shirts, tie-dye and otherwise). 

_Thwack!_

The sound underneath the emo playlist resonating from your phone is a familiar one—you rush to the window and throw it open, letting the stuffy afternoon air into your bedroom (gross, it feels like _soup_ outside). But the heat is worth it, if only for gazing down at the chipper blond two stories below. You let out a small sigh and proceed to swoon inside of your brain. 

“Hey punk, quit throwin’ rocks at my window!” 

Prompto grins, and it lights up his whole face. 

_It’s not fair._

“Psh, like I haven’t been throwing rocks at your window since middle school.” He tosses second pebble in one hand a few times before lodging it up at your open window. 

Without flinching, you catch the whizzing rock in one hand, only wincing slightly at the sting. You put it on your desk, along with the other rocks Prompto’s thrown over the past five years. (You have a lot of pet rocks at this point.) 

“Nice catch!” Prompto puts his hands on his hips. “Can I come up?” 

“You never ask if I’m busy, huh?” What Prompto doesn’t know is that you’re never too busy—not for him. 

Prompto shrugs. “Are you busy?” 

You shake your head and smile. “Nah dude, I’m just packing for camp.” 

Prompto, wide smile still plastered on his face, proceeds to free climb up the bac of your house up to your second-story bedroom. From the bottom of the stairs, you can hear your father’s protests of _Is that damn kid scaling my aluminum siding_ again _?!_

You shake your head. Prompto’s been caught before, but being eighteen must come with enhanced speed, because he makes it up in record time before your dad can make it to the back sliding glass door and yank him down by one slender calf. 

Prompto climbs inside your window just as you find yourself turning red at the thought of Prompto’s bare legs. He’s thankfully covered today, which doesn’t really make a difference in terms of hotness. He’s in black ripped skinny jeans, a white tank top with the sleeves and sides cut out, giving the whole world ample view of his lean, muscled body, and black Vans. You quickly glance away and move back to your huge suitcase on the bed, taking stock of your clothes. 

Prompto flops on the bed. “So,” he says, voice a little less chipper than usual. “Last summer at camp.” 

“Hopefully,” you say, biting your lip, shrugging. “Probably. At least for you. You’re definitely gonna make it in.” 

“Dude,” says Prompto, sitting up and crisscrossing his legs. “We’re both gonna make it in, no sweat.” 

“I’m not so sure.” 

“Aw c’mon, there’s only room for one anxious self-deprecating dumbass in this room.” Prompto runs his fingers through his spikey blond hair. 

You follow his movements like a hawk. “This is the _Crownsguard_ , Prompto. The literal military. I—people like me don’t make it into the military.” 

“Not everyone is bff’s with his Highness,” Prompto counters. 

“Yeah, get in on Noct’s recommendation and then fuck up on a mission and then get discharged. What a legacy,” you scoff, folding more shirts and rolling them tightly. 

“Hey,” says Prompto. “You’re making me sad, bro. Don’t tell me you’re going back on our pact?” 

You sigh. The pact—the pact that you and Prompto had made the first year of high school—to graduate and apply for the Crownsguard, specifically _Noct’s_ personal retinue. To pledge your life and service to the crown. Prompto makes it look so easy—he can run, he’s a wizard at guns (the camp offers rifle practice), and he just...he’s perfect. You’d trust him with your life—you _do_ trust him—and there’s no reason that Noct shouldn’t, either. You? You’re not half as skilled in anything that Prompto is. You do have a slight affinity for elemancy, but that’s not too terribly special. Frowning, you focus on packing. 

“No,” you say. “I’m still gonna try out. It’s just...don’t be surprised if you’re the only one who makes it. Maybe I’ll just go to college, study international politics. Noct could hire me as a counselor.” You smile a little. “From camp counselor to royal counselor, how about that?” 

Prompto giggles a little. “I never thought of that. But c’mon ___________, give yourself some credit. You’ll do great. Maybe you should do fencing this summer instead of crafts and cooking? Learn some swordplay, like Gladio.” 

You shrug. “I’ll think about it. But the crafts are inside...in that sweet, sweet air conditioning...” 

There’s a knock on your door, and your mom pokes her head through, stack of laundry in her hands. 

“Oh, hello Prompto! I didn’t know you were here.” 

You snort. “You didn’t hear dad shouting about him scaling the house again?” 

Your mom chuckles and shakes her head. “Your father is so particular, I don’t understand what his problem is. Here, sweetheart, I washed your clothes.” 

“Thanks mom.” You take the stack of laundry from your mom and set it beside your suitcase, sorting through it, deciding what to take. 

“Although,” your mother continues, looking at Prompto with amusement. “You know we _do_ have a front door, Prompto.” 

Prompto laughs loudly and shakes his head. “Aw c’mon, Mrs. _________, that’s no fun. Besides, uh. I kinda don’t want to get chased out of the house with a .22 again, heh heh...” 

“What?” Your mother whips her head to you. “When did that happen?” 

You snicker at the memory. “You were on a business trip...I guess maybe a couple of months ago? Prompto _tried_ to come in and hang out through the front door, but dad chased him off, shouting something about my ‘womanly virtues,’ or whatever.” 

“I’m not that kinda guy, honest!” Prompto squeaks, waving his hands defensively. “We were gonna go to the arcade with Noct and eat ramen afterwards, I swear to the Six!” 

“Oh honey,” your mom says, downhearted. “I am so sorry my husband acted so out of order. There’s certainly worse friends I can think of for our sweet __________ here than Prince Noctis himself and a kind boy like yourself.” 

“It’s okay mom,” you laugh. “I snuck out anyway.” 

Your mom’s eyes widen. “I see,” she says, clicking her tongue. Then she sighs. “You’re an adult now, I guess I can’t chide you too much. And it does seem like ___________ was out of line, chasing off poor Prompto with a gun.” 

“Good think I was track team captain!” Prompto laughs, holding his belly. “No harm no foul, Mrs. __________. You know we always take care of ____________ for ya.” 

Your mom smiles and nods. “Prompto, will you be staying for dinner?” 

Prompto’s violet-blue eyes go wide and his smile lights up your room. You focus on packing. “Who, little ol’ me? I’d be honored! Your cooking is straight from the Astrals themselves, Mrs. __________! I, uh...as long as there are no guns.” 

Your mom winks at him and turns. “I’ll see what I can manage.” 

As she shuts the door, Prompto flops back on the bed. “Damn, your mom’s home cooking. I’m a lucky bastard.” 

You shake your head. “Is food all you think about?” 

“I’m a growing boy,” Prompto counters, sticking out his tongue. He pauses for a minute, then-- “Hey, uh. You’ve been... a little distant lately. Is everything okay?” 

_Yeah everything’s fine I’ve just been in love with you since I was thirteen but I can’t tell you because I don’t want to ruin our friendship and besides, who likes fat girls anyway?_ “Huh? I’m--fine, sorry. Just a lot on my mind with graduation and all, the Crownsguard test at the end of the summer...” You shrug. “Y’know. Just stuff.” 

Prompto nods slowly. “Okay, but like. You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I mean we’re best friends, aren’t we?” 

You nod slowly. “Of course we are, Prom.” 

“Okay. As long as we’re cool.” 

You look up from your sea of camp outfits and gaze into his bright eyes. “Yeah, Prompto. We’re cool.” 

_________ 

The next day finds you and Prompto hopping aboard the big charter bus that picks up all the Camp Catoblepas employees—the directors, counselors, medics, activity coordinators, janitors, maintenance staff, and chefs. Prompto, as usual, helps you load your luggage into the huge storage spaces under the bus, then follows you to a seat, sinking down and sighing in satisfaction. The two of you are dressed in matching tie-dye shirts with the current year and the camp logo—Prompto in loose gym shorts with your high school logo on them and his ever-present Vans; you’re wearing short denim shorts and waterproof sandals. You’re plugging up your phone to the bus’s chargers when you hear the voice of another counselor, Nova—and it’s all you can do to keep from rolling your eyes in public at her usual prissy attitude as you hear her chatting idly with the others. 

“Hey Argentum, you gonna spend the whole ride looking at ____________’s fat legs, or would you rather sit with someone way prettier?” 

You whip your head around just in time to watch Prompto turn red and flick his gaze to the ceiling. 

“Y’know Nova, I keep hoping that you’ll get eaten by an actual catoblepas by the end of the summer. Maybe this year the gods will actually grant my request,” Prompto deadpans, closing his eyes. 

You snicker at her affronted scoff and watch as she directs her ego elsewhere. 

“Thanks,” you mumble to Prompto. 

“She’s such a bitch,” whispers Prompto as the bus begins to fill up with more of the camp staff. “I wish she really _would_ get eaten.” 

You laugh as you try to squash down a thought— _Prompto_ _, you can look at my fat legs all you like._

The campers won’t arrive for another three days, so it’s up to all of you to get the camp ready. Thankfully, Nova is always assigned to the four Green Cabins with Questus, Septimus, and Aqua, so you’re in minimal contact with her except for the pre-camp setup and meetings during the summer—she's usually preoccupied with trying to prove that her cluster of girls in the best, so you don’t pay much attention to her. By some wonderful twist of fate, you, Prompto, Stella, and Amadeus are all Blue Cabin regulars. You know that as long as you stick with them, Nova will give you minimal problems. 

The big charter bus turns onto the dusty road leading up to the sprawling, secluded camp. You feel a warm hand on your knee—you blink your eyes open and find that you’ve dozed off on Prompto’s shoulder. He’s so warm, and you find yourself wishing that the moment could go on forever. 

“Dude,” says Prompto. “We’re almost here! C’mon, camp song! Sing with me! It’s our last year!” 

You yawn and sit up, looking out at the window at the passing cedar and pine trees. Prompto stands up, motioning to the rest of the cabins. He looks down at you and holds out his hand. Beaming, you take it, and then you launch into a screaming rendition of the Camp Catoblepas theme song. 

_“Camp, Camp, Ca-to-_ _ble_ _-pas!_

_No one is, bet-_ _ter_ _than us!_

_We hike through the pines and swim in the lake!_

_We form bonds that do not break!_

_We shoot and craft and learn to trust!_

_Camp, Camp, Ca-to-ble-pas!_

_No one is, bet-_ _ter_ _than us!_

_Ev_ _-e-_ _ry_ _camper matters most!_

_We wake at dawn and sleep at dusk,_

_We are shar-per than, a_

_Catoble-pas tusk!_

_Camp, Camp, Ca-to-ble-pas!_

_We dare you to, be-come one of us!”_

Everyone laughs and cheers as they flop back in the cushy vinyl seats. Prompto’s skinny legs are bouncing in anticipation as the bus drives under the arch that marks the camp entrance. He looks at you again, smile splitting his gorgeous freckled face. 

“Last summer,” he says. “Let’s make it count.” He holds out his fist. 

You bump it, nodding. “Let’s make it count.” 


	2. ocean blue eyes, looking in mine

The end of the first week at camp is always your favorite—everyone's settled in, friendly alliances are made, schedules are finally set, and everyone is still riding a high wave of energy. There are about 160 kids in total—a decent mixture of newbies and oldies. Each cabin holds ten campers, plus a counselor, and there are four colors total: blue, green, white, and black—the colors of the Camp Catoblepas flag. Cabins are divided up by age, so you and Prompto are entering your second year of being Blues, working with one crop of 12- to 14-year-olds. You have about eight of the same girls from last year, plus two new ones who are fitting into the group like a tailored glove. 

The thing about tweens and teens is the fact that they’re _horribly_ observant when you don’t want them to be—and awful at following actual directions. It’s bad enough that Kaya forgets her water canteen nearly every day, and Ryssa forgets that she’s allergic to peanuts every three hours when she’s dragged by the others to the snack store—but at night, when it’s wind-down free time in the cabin before bed and the girls are braiding each others’ hair or weaving friendship bracelets, that’s when the real trouble starts. 

“So, Miss __________,” Lydia starts. She’s a tan, curvy blonde who’s 13 now and thinks she’s on top of the world. “Do you have a boyfriend yet?” 

You roll your eyes and go back to reviewing the Saturday schedule. Saturdays are pretty slow, with the kids having mostly free time except for lunch and at least two hours of elective activities. 

“Lydia, knock it off,” says Kaya, who’s cross-legged in front of her while Lydia fiddles with an intricate fishtail braid in her bright red hair. “You asked her that every week all last summer.” 

“What, it’s just a question?” Lydia smirks at you. “Aha! She’s blushing! See!” 

“Quiet, or I’m not walking with you to the other side of the lake tomorrow,” you mutter. 

“What’s the big deal?” asks Ryssa, one of the new girls. She looks up from her sketchpad to you. “So what if you don’t have a boyfriend?” 

“Becaaaaaauuuuuussse,” Lydia sings. “We all know that Miss __________ is the prettiest and _best_ camp counselor. And she deserves a boyfriend.” 

“Do _not_ try to play matchmaker again.” Augusta pops up from her overly large copy of the _Cosmogony_. “Dragging us into your schemes all last summer. Don’t quit your day job, and do us all a favor and never run a dating service.” 

“I’m too young to have a job, nerd,” Lydia teases back. “Besides. _I_ know who Miss ___________ likes. And I’m determined to see it happen this year.” 

“Not this again,” groans Haeley from her top bunk, where she, Trissia, and Sage are playing Cauthess Hold ‘Em poker. 

You feel your ears and your face go red in spite of yourself. “I’m flattered you think I’m pretty, but it’s no big deal. I have enough stuff to worry about without relationship problems.” You wave your hand nonchalantly and look at your watch. “Okay Bluebirds, twenty minutes of free time left, then it’s lights out.” 

“Yes ma’am,” they all chorus, and then it’s blessed silence for about five minutes. 

Aemelia, who’s been quiet throughout most of the exchange on her bunk writing letters to home, breaks the pause in conversation. “It’s Mr. Prompto from cabin 4, isn’t it?” 

All ten adolescent heads whip toward you. Your eyes burn holes in the clipboard in your lap. 

“Miss __________, is that true?” Gratia gets up from her bottom bunk and makes her way to your double bed by the door, sitting on the edge. 

“Of course it’s true,” Aemelia says, setting down her paper and pencil. “Do you see the way those two act with each other?” 

Kaya turns her head, causing Lydia to huff. “Quit, you’ll mess it up! I’m almost done.” 

“You said you knew who Miss ___________ liked. Is Aemelia right?” 

Lydia grins, pulling Kaya’s hair and causing her to turn back to staring straight. “Damn skippy,” she says. “I _knew_ it, ever since last year.” 

“Why don’t you say anything?” asks Sage, folding her poker hand and leaning over the top bunk to peer down at you with bright hazel eyes. 

“Listen,” you sigh, finally raising your eyes to all the girls. “Crushes and friendships are...complicated. It’s easier for you guys. But when you get older, it’s not so black and white anymore.” You shrug. “Prompto’s my best friend, and I don’t want to mess that up, ever.” 

“But you like him,” Tiffanie, the other new camper, confirms as she puts the finishing touches on her small cross-stitch project. “Like. _Like_ like him.” 

“Dude, have you seen Mr. Prompto?” Haeley sighs wistfully as she lays down a royal flush and collects her meager winnings. “Who _wouldn’t_ like him?” 

“Gods, Hale, he’s four years older than you, catch a break already,” Kaya says, rolling her eyes. “Ow, Lydia! Are you _through_?” 

“Listen, slut, do you want this fishtail or not?” Lydia pulls on Kaya’s hair again, thin fingers working in the intricate braid. “Besides, Miss ____________ thinks that Mr. Prompto doesn’t see her as a total babe because she’s fat.” 

There’s a collective gasp from the rest of the girls. 

“ _What_ ,” spits Augusta. “Who is telling you these things, Miss _________!” 

“Yeah,” says Aemelia gently. “My mom is fat and she and my dad are like, super in love and sappy. It’s kinda gross actually.” 

“It’s the media,” says Gratia. “Name a book or a movie with a fat girl as the romantic lead. There’s like, almost nothing. This is why we need feminism!” 

Your emotions are reeling—for a bunch of skinny, giggly tweens and teens, your girls are surprisingly sweet and body positive. (Nova _still_ hasn’t figured out that it was Trissia who put a dead fish under her bed last year after hearing a particularly nasty remark from the green cabin counselor.) “Girls, listen, it’s--it’s okay. Really. Can you promise me that you won’t do anything to try to force us together?” 

There are various mumbles of “Yes,” and you roll your eyes, knowing that you’re going to have to accept that as your answer. 

“Lydia,” you call out as you set your clipboard to the side. “Can you really promise me that you won’t say anything to Prompto?” 

Lydia puts a hand over her heart and smiles. “Camp Catoblepas honor,” she swears with her fingers crossed in Kaya’s thick hair. 

________ 

Saturday nights are always s’mores nights around the big bonfire in the middle of camp. It’s not a requirement, but most of the kids tend to gather around it anyway. There are giant picnic tables set up with seemingly endless packages of graham crackers, chocolate bars, and marshmallows. Some counselors sit with their cluster of kids, but some sit off to the side, watching from afar, letting the campers do their own thing. Prompto watches fondly as his boys actively seek out those who are sitting alone, bringing them s’mores and inviting small talk. If there’s one thing he’s proud of, it’s that being a camp counselor has allowed him to instill his own sense of compassion and empathy into the children of Lucis—he hopes that his lessons follow the boys years after they’ve grown past the age of needing summer camp. He's had many of the boys for years, working with them as 10- and 11-year-olds, now with some of them being as old as 13 and 14. He walks around the large fire, tugging on the shirt collars of the youngest ones that he thinks are getting too close, and praising those of his cabin that he sees reaching out to some of the quiet, more neglected campers. He meanders to one of the sweets-laden picnic tables and grabs a paper plate, then sweeps his gaze across the roaring fire to __________, seeing her sitting closely behind her crop of girls, braiding one teenager’s hair, laughing and talking with ease. He gets lost in the shape of her behind the flickering flames and the rising cedar-scented smoke; Prompto doesn’t realize that he’s staring until one of his boys sidles up beside him. 

“You gonna actually make a s’more or what?” 

“Huh?” Prompto snaps back to reality and turns, red-faced from more than the summer heat, and looks at Caius, the tall, brown-eyed boy beside him. 

Caius is smirking, looking across the fire to where Prompto’s gaze was fixated just seconds before. “I see some other sweet has caught your eye,” the teenager teases. 

“I don’t know what you mean!” Prompto squeaks and turns his attention back to fumbling open a new pack of graham crackers. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? Didn’t you and Julian say something about practicing rope knots?” 

“That’s _knot_ nearly as interesting as watching you pine after Miss __________ from cabin 2,” he teases, popping a raw marshmallow into his mouth. “Seriously dude, you couldn’t be any more obvious.” 

“Okay! Okay, hush, you brat, or you can forget about partnering with me on the zipline next week,” Prompto spits through clenched teeth. “Keep your voice down, will ya?” He scrambles together two plates of s’mores ingredients. 

“I swear,” Caius huffs. “You’re so good at so many things, Mr. P. Where’s your confidence when it comes to girls?” 

“She’s not just any girl,” Prompto mutters as he looks across the fire again. He meets her gaze and swallows hard, managing a tight smile. “Dammit.” 

“Why can’t you just _tell_ her? Seriously. You give us relationship advice all the time and it _works_. Why’s it different when it’s _you_? Just shoot your shot already.” The gangly teen levels his gaze at Prompto. 

Prompto sighs. “Because, I’m afraid she’ll never want to talk to me again. It’s not as easy, once you’re older.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

Prompto chuckles. “Don’t worry buddy, neither do I. We’re friends, okay? And I’m happy with that.” 

“You’re a liar, Mr. P, but whatevs.” Caius swipes another marshmallow and wanders off to go find his friends. 

“Your hands are devastatingly void of s’mores,” Prompto says as he approaches. 

You feel a sudden adrenaline rush as you look up. Your group of girls breaks into hushed whispers and giggles among themselves as you swat at them absently, taking one of the paper plates that Prompto’s holding out. You scoot over on the large log, prompting some of the girls to join the rest of the group on the thick blankets on the ground. 

“Thanks,” you say as you smile. “You didn’t have to make me s’mores, y’know. I know how to make them.” 

Prompto laughs and shakes his head. “Well I just noticed that your rug rats weren’t leaving you alone, so I decided to come to the rescue!” 

You smile as you look at your girls. Lydia whips her head back towards you and winks, making you stick out your tongue. “Thanks Prom.” 

The girls squee and repeat your nickname for Prompto in more hushed giggles. 

“Shove off, will you!” you laugh at your girls as they squeal and scatter to the other side of the bonfire, leaving you and Prompto alone on the log. “I swear! They’re so silly.” 

“What’s got them all roweled up?” Prompto asks, laughing. 

You shrug, hurriedly biting into the hot, sticky treat so you don’t have to actually answer him. 

“Your first week go okay? New Bluebirds getting settled in?” he asks, bumping his shoulder against yours. 

All of the Blue Cabin counselors nickname their campers “Bluebirds” to build a sense of community, something that you cherish. As an outsider in nearly every other aspect of your life, the close-knit family of Camp Catoblepas is something that you’ve come to really treasure (with the exception of Nova, but you try not to think about her). 

“Yeah dude! They’re fitting in great. Ryssa and Tiffanie are really finding themselves here, I think.” 

“They couldn’t have been paired with a better leader,” says Prompto softly. 

You gulp hard and gobble another s’more, heat rising to your cheeks as you gaze into the fire. Finishing the dessert, you set your paper plate down on the ground and lean your head on Prompto’s shoulder. He stiffens for a second but quickly relaxes, one strong arm snaking across your shoulders and holding you close. 

“One week down, seven to go,” you mutter. “Not sure I’m ready for all this to end so quickly.” 

“We grew up so fast,” Prompto replies, absently rubbing his hand over your bare shoulder, “just like our kids here. But hey. We said we’d make the most of it, right? I’m ready. I’m glad we got cabins 2 and 4 again so we’d be paired up on stuff.” 

You nod, thankful that the gods have granted you the small miracle of always being an even-numbered cabin along with Prompto so that you two get to work together with co-ed camper activities. Gazing into the roaring bonfire, stuffed full of homemade s’mores, you feel yourself daydreaming on Prompto’s shoulder, the chatter of the campers and the nightly calls of bugs and other wildlife lulling you into a meditative doze. You dream about Prompto kissing your hair—it feels so real that you smile and sigh in your sleep, the summer heat lulling you deeper into dreamland. 


	3. you make me so happy it turns back to sad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring the song "Thunder" by Boys Like Girls, from their self-titled album. I'm an old emo kid, cut me some slack.

Your alarm fills the cabin with a soft piano tune, a bittersweet track from your favorite video game. As you slowly come to consciousness from a particularly nice dream—featuring Prompto, naturally—the wind is knocked out of you by the early birds of the cabin as they pounce on your bed with no reservations. 

“C’mon, Miss _____________, time for breakfast!” Lydia sing-songs in your ear. 

“No,” you mumble, trying to draw the thin camping blanket over your face. 

“Don’t tell me that you wanna miss your usual morning coffee with Mr. P,” Kaya whispers in your ear. 

_Damn brats, knowing your weakness_. Blue Cabin 4 almost always gets to the 8 am breakfast first, picking the table in the back right corner, with the boys laying across the chairs and benches, saving it for your own Cabin 2. Prompto’s always ready with a large cup of black coffee for you, because he knows you’re not a morning person. Sighing, you roll over, facing the gaggle of early-risers who have made their homes on your bed. 

“Don’t you have your own bunks,” you mumble as you yawn. “You guys get showered first.” 

“You’re so cute when you first wake up Miss ___,” coos Aemelia, coming over to see what all the fuss is about. She’s decided to use your first initial, like the boys do with Prompto. 

“Isn’t she?” says Lydia, smirking and shaking you, making you groan. “C’mon, it’s time to go see Cabin 4 and the love of your life.” 

“Knock it off, Lyd,” you mumble. “Haeley. You’re heavy.” 

“Ugh, my heart,” sighs Haeley, sitting on top of you, ignoring your comment. “This is just like the reader-insert fanfiction I read before camp started. Friends to lovers, 100k, mutual pining, slow burn.” 

“What the heck does that even mean?” asks Sage as she slowly rises and digs clean clothes from her suitcase. “Those are all definitely words, but...” 

“Don’t ask, _please_ ,” says Lydia, whipping around to the other girl. “We really don’t need an explanation of more video game characters this morning.” She rolls her eyes at Haeley. 

Haeley pouts. “You guys would like _Ultimate Reverie XV_ if you just _played_ it.” 

“Doubtful,” says Lydia, finally leaving you alone so that she can pick out clothes for the day. 

Almost two hours later, at 7:55, you drag Blue Cabin 2 into the giant mess hall. There are good morning shouts from the other tables, and your girls excitedly greet and hug their friends from the other cabins, waving at the boys from Blue Cabin 4 in the back. The eleven of you eventually meander over, the girls mixing gracefully with the boys, smiling and making more than a few of them blush. No one is able to eat yet, but drinks have been served—along with tall glasses of water, Prompto’s ordered the two of you large hot cups of coffee. You yawn as you sit next to him, bumping shoulders. 

Prompto smiles brightly. He’s in last year’s tie-dye shirt (with the sleeves and sides cut out, as usual), long baggy cargo shorts, and sporty sandals, with a black bandana around his right bicep and sunglasses nestled in his spikey blond hair. “Good morning sunshine,” he says as you slump next to him, throwing your backpack under the table. 

“Four summers now and I’m still not used to waking up like this,” you mumble into the hot mug of liquid life. “Thanks for the coffee.” 

“Always,” says Prompto, grinning. “Second week of camp already! And this morning we get pancakes and sausage.” 

“Ugh, waffles are better,” says Ryssa, who’s pulled Gratia half into her lap to braid her damp hair. 

“You’re _crazy_ ,” pipes one of Prompto’s boys, Leo. 

“Oh here we go,” you mutter as the table breaks out into the age-old debate of pancakes versus waffles. 

“Syrup pockets are god-tier!” screams Lydia loudest of all as she swats Claudio, a pancake enthusiast, on the arm. 

“Ow, Caius! Control your girlfriend!” he says, hurt, sticking out his tongue. 

“Ah-ah, don’t drag me into this,” Caius yelps, holding up his hands defensively. 

You roll your eyes as Prompto laughs, the sound speeding up your resting heart rate just a little. The bell rings, signaling the now-open breakfast line. All of the kids scramble from their seats up to the side of the mess hall to grab trays and plates, with the counselors moving much more slowly to get in line, always willing to let the kids eat first. Prompto waits as you drink a few more sips of coffee, then walks with you to the back of the line, making small talk as you wait for breakfast. 

_________ 

You’d taken Prompto’s advice and decided to sign up to supervise fencing and rifle practice this year instead of your usual string of inside (and safe) crafts, and by this second week, you’re enjoying yourself more than you thought. A couple of your more daring girls are in the sports with you, but you’re mostly getting to visit with other kids for several hours a day, which is a nice change of pace. The fencing instructor consistently uses you for demonstrations since you’re an adult now, and you practice the footwork and swordplay right alongside the kids, with some of the older and taller teens volunteering to be your partner for the long stretches of practice. While it’s not quite the same as sitting in the cool air conditioning for two hours a day working with modeling clay and popsicle sticks, fencing is under a wide, open-air pavilion, so at least there’s shade. You keep the Crownsguard test in the forefront of your mind, determined to be at least a decent intermediate level at swordplay basics by the time that camp is over. 

Afternoon rifle practice is, unfortunately, completely out in the sun, and as it’s one of the more popular activities, veteran counselors who are familiar with the guns are sent to work with the kids to help the activity coordinators out. Since this is your first year doing marksmanship, you’re supervising a group of novice kids—and Prompto, of course, is nominated to help, since the boy can practically shoot the wings off of a housefly from fifty feet away. 

“So I hear there’s a new fencing champ rising through the ranks,” Prompto teases as he checks the safety goggles and earmuffs on the young teens. “Wait for my signal, guys—do _not_ fire your rifles,” he says sternly and with all the confidence of a practiced sharpshooter as he walks behind the line of kids, back and forth. He comes up to you again and watches as you adjust your safety glasses—he places the muffs on your head himself, smiling. 

“Psh, yeah, _okay_ ,” you say sarcastically, gazing at Prompto’s ruddy, freckled face. The sun always makes more freckles appear, and summer Prompto is definitely your favorite Prompto, even though he complains about the freckles. 

“I’m serious! I heard you’ve been doing pretty well. Gonna give The Immortal a run for his money, I bet.” 

You roll your eyes and take your place next to your group of first timers. Prompto checks everyone’s guns, and as soon as the safety has been flipped off, he signals to shoot. 

You don’t get a bullseye, but you hit closer to the mark than you thought you would. Prompto peers at your target and back at you, and he beams, throwing a thumbs-up. 

________ 

Prompto’s a man of many talents—a jack of all trades, if he’s being honest with himself, but master of none. But he does all right for himself, considering. He’s a quick learner and has the passion and drive for anything he thinks is remotely cool—guns, photography, video games—and, the guitar. In all honesty, Prompto’s always loved music, but it wasn’t until Fall Out Boy debuted in middle school and he heard his best friend swoon over “guys who play guitars” did Prompto actually think about _learning_ to play. He’s no rock star, but he’s decent on acoustic, and he brings his trusted guitar to camp every summer for the entertainment of his boys—and _her_. 

Blue Cabins 2 and 4 have a habit of hanging out together at the end of the day, after the dinner assembly is through, in the free couple of hours before lights-out. The boys and girls are circled around one of the small fire pits by the lake, the cool night breeze washing over the kids and the young adults and making them sigh in intense satisfaction. ___________ and her girls sit on the opposite log stumps and on thick woven blankets across from Prompto and his boys, the kids intermingling but the two adults strangely distant. Prompto strums a few chords and looks at the kids, some silent, some crowded around each other in hushed voices, a few of the boys nervously reaching for some of the girls’ hands—baby faces just on the cusp of puberty, blushing under the attention of the opposite sex. Prompto looks at his best friend across the fire and bites his lip, looking down to his guitar, still strumming idly. 

“C’mon, Mr. P! Play!” calls Lydia, of course, ever the outspoken one, flicking her gaze from her counselor to Prompto. The other kids follow her in chanting his name. Prompto laughs and nods, shushing the adolescents. He clears his throat and looks across the fire one more time—____________ is dressed with a black skull bandana in her shower-damp hair, an old camp t-shirt that’s been jaggedly cut into a crop top, distressed denim shorts, tattered Converse sneakers that she’s had since she was 16. Fuck. Prompto’s so helpless—pathetic, he’s _pathetic_ , he thinks to himself as one of his favorite songs comes to the forefront of his lovesick brain. 

“All right, all right, settle down, Bluebirds!” Prompto smiles softly at them and begins to play. He plays only for her, but no one needs to know that, right? “This song is called _Thunder_.” 

_Today is a winding road that's taking me to places that I didn't want to go_   
_Whoa (whoa, whoa, whoa)_   
_Today in the blink of an eye_   
_I'm holding on to something and I do not know why_   
_I tried_

_I tried to read between the lines_   
_I tried to look in your eyes_   
_I want a simple explanation_   
_For what I'm feeling inside_   
_I_ _gotta_ _find a way out_   
_Maybe there's a way out_

________

There are hushed giggles as the girls of Cabin 2 look back and forth between Prompto and you. Of course, the raw emotion resonating from his voice is unmistakable—Prompto's so talented, it drives you crazy. You nearly have tears in your eyes as you stare at your friend, transfixed, face warm and red from the fire. 

_Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer_   
_Do you know you're unlike any other?_   
_You'll always be my thunder, and I said_   
_Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors_   
_I don't_ _wanna_ _ever love another_   
_You'll always be my thunder_   
_So_ _bring on the rain_   
_And bring on the thunder_

_Today is a winding road_   
_Tell me where to start and tell me something I don't know_   
_Whoa (whoa, whoa, whoa)_   
_Today I'm on my own_   
_I can't move a muscle and I can't pick up the phone_   
_I don't know (I don't know, I don't know, I don't know)_

_And now I'm itching for the tall grass_   
_And longing for the breeze_   
_I need to step outside_   
_Just to see if I can breathe_   
_I_ _gotta_ _find a way out_   
_Maybe there's a way out_

_________

“Caius,” whispers Lydia in the middle of the song, snuggling up to the tall brunet. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing right now? I mean, you know it right?” 

Caius nods and puts his arm around his girlfriend. “We have got to get these two together. I can’t take another summer of this.” 

Lydia smirks. “Let’s work together. Cabins 2 and 4, like always.” She presses a chaste kiss to his cheek. 

Caius feels himself blush and stares into the fire, matchmaking ideas flooding his teenage brain. 

_________

_Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer_   
_Do you know you're unlike any other?_   
_You'll always be my thunder, and I said_   
_Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors_   
_I don't_ _wanna_ _ever love another_   
_You'll always be my thunder_   
_So_ _bring on the rain_

_Yeah_ _I'm walking on a tightrope_   
_I'm wrapped up in vines_   
_I think we'll make it out_   
_But you just_ _gotta_ _give me time_   
_Strike me down with lightning_   
_Let me feel you in my veins_   
_I_ _wanna_ _let you know how much I feel your pain_

_Today is a winding road that's taking me to places that I didn't want to go_   
_Whoa_

_Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer_   
_Do you know you're unlike any other?_   
_You'll always be my thunder, and I said_   
_Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors_   
_I don't_ _wanna_ _ever love another_   
_You'll always be my thunder_

_Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer_   
_Do you know you're unlike any other?_   
_You'll always be my thunder_   
_So_ _bring on the rain_   
_Oh_ _baby bring on the pain_   
_And listen to the thunder_

Prompto finishes his song and exhales slowly, violet-blue eyes sweeping over the kids and finally settling on you, smiling softly. He clears his throat. “Any other requests?” 

“The _Campfire Song_ from Spongebob!” one of his boys, Janus, shouts out. 

Prompto laughs and you laugh along with him, clapping your hands, swallowing down the daydreaming part of your brain that wonders what it would be like for Prompto to sing just for you. 


	4. I feel like I might sink and drown and die

The faint sniffling at five am tells you everything you need to know. You half-heartedly reach for the electric lantern on your bedside table. Lydia and Kaya are already slowly moving down from their top bunks to the bottom ones where Tiffanie and Ryssa are whispering to each other in panicked voices. The homesickness for first-timers usually started around week three or four—it's Tuesday of week three, right on schedule. You rub your eyes, discreetly pull on a cotton sports bra under your baggy sleep shirt, and wander over to Ryssa’s bunk, where the four girls have gathered. 

“What’s wrong?” you mumble, still trying to wipe the crust from your eyes. 

“I--I wanna go _home_!” Ryssa sobs as Kaya puts an arm around her shoulder. 

Tiffanie says nothing but nods in agreement—she's sitting in Lydia’s lap and sobbing into the older girl’s pajamas. 

“Okay,” you mumble, talking low and soothing. “It’s five in the morning. Would you like to call your parents?” 

“No,” Tiffanie says. “I just want to go home.” 

“Okay, I hear you. Why don’t you two get dressed, and we can walk to the rec center?” You stare blurry-eyed at Kaya and Lydia. “Do you guys wanna come, or...?” 

The two best friends look at each other and think for a moment. 

“I’ll come,” says Kaya. “Lydia can stay here with the others.” 

“Okay, thanks,” you yawn. “Uh, wait right here, I’ll be right back. Let me go let Stella know what’s going on.” You shuffle back to your bed and find your sneakers, slipping out of the cabin. The sun is just cresting on the horizon, painting the lake and the surrounding forests in beautiful orange and pink hues. You take a few seconds to appreciate the view before stumbling down the steps and walking the few yards to Blue Cabin 1, the other all-girl cabin. You rap quietly on the door until Stella appears a minute later. 

“Everything okay,” she mumbles, long hair in a half-hearted bun. Her chosen hair color this summer is pink—last summer it was blue. It looks so pretty against her tanned olive skin. 

“Two newbies, homesick,” you yawn. “I’m uh, gonna take them to the rec center for a while. Lydia’s not my oldest but she’s been at this camp since she was nine, so I trust her.” You jerk your head back to the cabin. “Kaya’s coming with me, so that just leaves the seven of them. Just make sure they get to breakfast, would ya?” 

Stella nods, yawning. She’s a year younger than you but she’s sweet and pretty reliable. She smiles softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. I hope they feel better.” 

“I’m sure it’ll pass, but. I might be out the whole day, hopefully just a half day, but who knows. I’ll radio the assistant directors to let them know what’s going on.” 

“Bluebirds stick together,” she says. “Don’t sweat it. We’ll take care of your girls.” 

“Thanks Stella. Sorry to wake you.” 

She waves her hand nonchalantly. “I’ll check on your cabin in another hour or so.” 

You nod and she closes the door. As you turn, you see a shirtless figure in the distance, running—as it gets closer, and as you descend the steps of Stella’s cabin, it dawns on you that the early bird runner is no other than Prompto. _Hello_ , your brain says as it starts to wake up. You stop between your cabin and Stella’s watching him run up the slight incline through the middle of camp and towards the Blue Cabins—towards you. _Shit_. He’s shirtless, did you notice that already? Of course you did. He’s in short red athletic shorts and trainers, sweatbands on his wrists and a bandana in his hair, holding his long bangs out of his eyes. The soft morning sun glints off of his toothy smile as he slows down and comes to a rest in front of you. 

“Do mine eyes deceive me, or is this a ___________ up at the ass-crack of dawn, voluntarily?” He puts his hands on his hips and it’s a struggle not to ogle his lean, muscular body. 

“Not voluntarily,” you sigh, flicking your gaze to your cabin behind him. “Ryssa and Tiffanie are homesick. I’ve just talked to Stella. I’m taking them to chill in the rec center to call home, maybe watch some movies and just chill for the day.” 

Prompto nods in sympathy. “Oof buddy, I’m sorry. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure they get to breakfast. Did you radio Camilla or Baz yet?” 

You shake your head, yawning again. You can’t wait to get to the rec center and take advantage of their Keurig. “Not yet, but I will.” 

“Okay,” says Prompto softly. His face softens with the concern, and he worries at his bottom lip, deep violet-blue eyes watering at the corners. “Damn, I hate it when the kids get homesick. Hasn’t happened for me yet, but you know boys, always trying to look tough.” He claps your shoulder, causing you to shiver under his touch. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? I’ll miss you at breakfast.” 

You nod, and despite what you’re sure is an obvious blush on your cheeks, you surge forward and wrap Prompto in a hug, not even caring that he’s sweaty and gross. Your whole body surges with heat as you feel his soft, bare skin under your fingertips. 

Prompto gasps softly and squeezes you tight against him, nuzzling into your neck. 

A couple of hours later and you’re in the back of the rec center, in the room that’s designated for homesick campers. Phones are discouraged at camp, and most kids are pretty accepting, because cell service is shitty at best, but for some ungodly reason, the wifi works just fine. After tearful yet reassuring facetime calls via social media with each of their parents Ryssa and Tiffanie are dozing with each other on the large, plush couch. _Clueless_ is playing on repeat, you’re on your third cup of coffee, and it’s nine am. Kaya’s giving you a manicure while Cher Horowitz gets robbed in the background. 

“You’re a really good counselor,” the young girl says, yawning as she pops another fruit snack into her mouth, holding up your hand to survey her work. 

“Huh,” you say, turning your attention back to her. You look at your fingernails, which are a pretty shade of rose gold now. 

Kaya screws on the top of the nail polish and reaches for the dark purple to put on her own toenails. “I mean it. You’re a really good counselor, Miss ___________. You’re just really nice. And you care a lot.” 

You smile, blushing a little. “Oh, well—thank you sweetheart. I really do try. I like camp a lot.” 

“Yeah, it shows,” says Kaya, cracking her neck. “Some of the other girls, they can tell that their counselors’ hearts aren’t really in this.” 

You laugh, waving your hands to speed up the polish dry time. “Kids are more observant than people give them credit for. I try my best to treat you like actual people.” 

“We know, and we appreciate it,” says Kaya softly, gazing up at you from her spot on the floor. “Miss _________, why won’t you tell Prompto you like him?” 

You sigh, heart clenching in your chest as you avoid her bright green eyes. “Because I’m afraid of the rejection,” you say quietly. “I’m afraid that he’ll say no and that our friendship will be awkward, that it’ll weird him out for me to like him so he’ll eventually stop hanging out with me. I don’t want that. So I’m preserving what we have by keeping my feelings a secret.” 

“How long have you liked him?” 

“Since I was about your age, I guess.” 

“Adults are weird,” Kaya mumbles as she places the brush back into the polish bottle and surveys her work. “But what if he likes you back? Did you ever think about that? All this time, you could’ve been together.” 

You shake your head. “Someone like Prom, with someone like me?” 

“You mean someone who’s nice, who cares about kids, who’s pretty, who’s good at crafts, who’s smart, who’s...” Kaya looks up at you and grins. “I can keep going, if you want.” 

“Yeah but I’m not...” 

The teenager huffs as she rises from the floor and plops on the couch next to you. “Okay, __________, straight up.” 

“Wow, no ‘miss.’ Okay.” 

“Listen!” Kaya laughs. “You know we all like, idolize you, right? You’re seriously a role model to us. And your weight and the size of your camp shirt has no bearing on that.” She shrugs. “My cousin’s fat and she has an OnlyFans, okay. It’s not like, y’know. Fat people don’t fall in love or have sex.” 

“You’re too young to be talking about that!” you groan. “I’m so old, I feel like a mom.” 

Kaya rolls her eyes. “Oh shut up, like we all don’t know what that is. You’re missing my point. You shouldn’t let the fact that you’re fat stop you from going after the person you like.” 

You laugh as the teenager rests her head on your shoulder and yawns. “How are you so smart for a kid?” 

“Mmmm, I just am.” Kaya yawns and settles down. “Besides, you’re not a mom. Just like, a really cool big sister. Even if you are a nerd.” 

“Oh thanks,” you chuckle, blowing on your nails. You find yourself nodding off not to soon after as the movie credits roll on in the background, dreams of a certain freckled blond dancing in your subconscious. 

In the middle of the afternoon, Ryssa and Tiffanie have calmed down enough to leave the rec center after having a nutritious meal of chocolate milk and square pizza. Ryssa, the smaller of the two, insists on a piggyback ride—Kaya and Tiffanie hold your hands as the four of you wander around camp, visiting the other girls at their designated activities. Lydia, Sage, and Augusta are all at advanced rock climbing, along with Prompto and five of his older boys. The girls see you approach the giant wall and squeal, repelling down as fast as they can. They nearly tackle you and the other, girls, giggling and laughing and hugging. 

“You guys been okay?” you ask Lydia as she finally unwinds herself from you. 

She nods. “Miss Stella and Mr. P took care of us, don’t worry.” Lydia looks at Ryssa—still plastered to your back like a baby monkey—and Tiffanie, who’s fixated on some of the older boys in muscle shirts halfway up the rock wall. “How are you feeling?” 

“Better,” mumbles Ryssa. “Still sad, but my mom said she’s coming for parent day at the end of the month.” 

“That’s super cool! Less than two weeks away. You can do it. Tiffanie?” 

“Yeah, I’m--I’m okay. My dads are coming down for parent day too. And we checked the mail, and I got a letter from them today.” 

“Not to mention that we watched _Clueless_ about three times,” laughs Kaya. “Oh! I did Miss ___’s nails, show them!” Without waiting, she grabs your hand to show off the rose gold polish. 

“Ah, a classic! Cher Horowitz is my idol,” sighs Lydia fondly. “Choice color, Kai.” 

“Glad you’re feeling better,” says Sage as she grabs Tiffanie’s hands and holds them. “You gonna join us and cabin 4 at the lake this afternoon after our rotations?” 

Tuesdays are optional lake days for swimming and canoeing, which your girls are always into. And seeing Prompto shirtless for a second time in a single day is always high on your radar. 

Ryssa nods. “I wanna swim.” 

Tiffanie nods in agreement. 

Augusta looks at Kaya and grins. “Wanna join in the rock climbing?” 

You look down and nod. “Go on, you’ve been away from everyone enough. We’ll head back to the cabin. You guys make sure to all come back before lake time.” You hear a shout and look up at the top of the giant rock wall—Prompto is sitting on top with his legs dangling off, all harnessed up and grinning from ear to ear. He waves, and you wave back, blushing. 

The girls around you giggle and poke at your arms. 

“Hush!” you hiss as you turn, taking the two younger ones back to the cabin to get them ready for the lake. 


	5. You’re so gorgeous, I can’t say anything to your face

Prompto watches as Blue Cabin 2 approaches the rows and rows of stacked canoes and paddles. All of the girls seem okay now, even the two younger ones bouncing around and laughing with their more seasoned friends. ___________ is walking in the midst of them, laughing and talking, chubby face and bright eyes lighting up as they draw closer to the canoes and the sheds full of watersports equipment. Prompto’s heart swells—his best friend is _so_ good with kids, it’s unreal. His goblin brain idly imagines a scenario of her being the mother of _his_ children, and he fights to squash down the blush. 

“Here she comes, Mr. P,” Dominic says, elbowing him in the ribs. 

“I’m going to drown you and make it look like an accident,” Prompto mutters to the teen as he tries to look cool by the canoes. 

Dominic just laughs at the empty threat and motions to some of the other boys who are splashing around at the water’s edge. Caius and Julian, always ready to be the center of attention, have been doing backflips and other tricks from the dock for the last thirty minutes, easing some of the younger and newer boys into the lake to get over their hesitation. The lake is sprawling, almost six miles across—legend has it that the camp grounds used to be home to a catoblepas herd, until the giant beasts were hunted to near-extinction. Every now and then, one will actually wander into the lake and then camp is on lockdown until trained hunters can weaken it enough to haul away, which usually takes several hours. One hasn’t reared its head since the first year Prompto and __________ were counselors to a crop of 8- and 9- year-olds. Crossing the lake usually takes the more experienced campers about 2 or 3 hours to cross, but it’s only the third week into camp, and Prompto knows that they might only get halfway before everyone gets tired, and he’s okay with that. He’s just happy that he gets to spend this much time with his best friend. 

And boy, does Prompto’s brain go haywire when he sees the girls approach. ___________ has yellow plaid shirt tied around her waist, athletic shorts, water sandals, and is wearing what looks like a high-waisted bikini underneath it all. The black briefs are peaking above the name-brand shorts, giving Prompto a tantalizing view of creamy soft skin and lovely stretch marks before his eyes drag up to the cagey black bikini top that’s covering her ample chest. Her hair is done up in braids, probably courtesy of the giggly teens at her side, and sunglasses rest in her hair. Prompto’s mouth suddenly feels as dry as the desert out in eastern Leide. He suddenly feels self-conscious in his swim trunks and sneakers. 

“Hey buddy!” he says a little too loudly, waving. But gods, the way her face lights up when she sees him gives him enough energy for the next week. He glances down at the girls crowding around her. “Everyone feeling okay now?” 

They all giggle and blush and nod. 

“We’re all good Prom. Thanks for your help today,” __________ says, patting Ryssa’s head. The older girls of cabin 2 start go to pull on the canoes, with the boys jumping in to help, eager to flex their fledgling muscles. 

“Ah, no problem!” Prompto quips. “You know us Bluebirds gotta stick together.” 

They all get into their ten canoes, a co-ed mixture of boys and girls, with Prompto and _________ in the middle of the kids in the eleventh one. Everyone is wearing life jackets, of course, and the counselors have a waterproof radio to holler back at camp if there’s an emergency. But the lake is calm, hardly even a breeze to rock the boats, and it’s a little cloudy, so the sun isn’t directly frying them from overhead. 

Prompto sighs. This is nice, peaceful. He wishes it could always be like this. __________’s head is turned, chubby arms momentarily stilled but still clutching the paddle as she watches the kids’ canoes around them. He’s so afraid that he’s losing time—what if he’s lost time already? Prompto suddenly feels himself spiraling and he sniffs hard, ripping his gaze back to the sky and gasping in shaky, deep breaths. 

“Prompto,” she says, and her voice cuts through the anxiety like the throwing axes back at camp. 

He manages to steady himself and look at her, getting lost in her eyes for several long moments. 

“Breathe,” she says. “Look at me, and breathe.” 

It’s an easy request to say, but for Prompto, it’s impossible—because looking at her knocks him breathless, every time. He tries, though. She _knows_ him, and she knows his tells. 

“What’s making you anxious?” ____________ asks quietly, quickly surveying the kids to make sure everyone’s still upright. Most of them have stopped paddling, and are just drifting with the natural ebb and flow of the clear blue lake, talking with each other and making jokes, pointing at random birds or other creatures overhead. 

Prompto shakes his head. Time, _time_ , he needs more _time_ —to tell her how he feels, to take another year of childhood just to play with her, to come to camp and forget the real world for just one more goddamn second, the war, the Starscourge-- 

“We’ve grown up, huh,” she says quietly, looking at the water and the fish swimming around their canoes with little fear. “After this summer, that’s it. We won’t go back to school, back to just hanging out with Noct until three am on Friday nights, making ourselves sick on pizza and chips, avoiding homework.” 

Yeah, that’s it, that’s exactly it, and _fuck_ , Prompto thought he was ready, ready to grow up and join the Crownsguard, but-- “I’ll miss this,” he says quietly. 

“But we’ll still be together, right?” she asks quietly, eyes darting back to him. “It’ll be different, yeah, but—it'll still be us. Us, and Noctis. And the others.” 

Prompto nods, breath steadying. 

“Change isn’t easy,” __________ says quietly, looking down again. “But I’m willing to--” her voice cuts off as Caius and Lydia row their canoe over, barely knocking the boats together. 

“Some of the younger ones are tired,” Lydia says, flipping her hair and sliding her sunglasses to her forehead. “Can we head back?” 

“Of course honey,” __________ says, all maternal and sweet. “You guys lead, the others will follow.” She looks around and waves at the other campers, pointing back towards the shore. Several nod their heads and begin to paddle the other way. 

“You’re so good with them,” says Prompto once they’re out of earshot. 

__________ flushes and shakes her head. “Nah, not as good as you.” 

“Are you kidding?” says Prompto. “Earlier today the rest of your girls were all gloom and doom without you around. They love you.” _Almost as much as I do_ , Prompto thinks but doesn’t say. 

___________ just grins at him and readies her paddle. 

Prompto and ___________ stack the last canoe as the kids play around in the shallow edges of the lake, trying to catch tadpoles and minnows in their hands. 

“Miss ___, do a cannonball!” one of Prompto’s boys, Ace, shouts, and of course she complies, throwing off her plaid shirt and cover-up shorts, running to the dock and leaping high into the air, crashing down into the water, making huge waves that have all the kids laughing and swimming around. 

But when his best friend resurfaces, he can see the tight pull of pain across her face, and Prompto immediately leaps in after her. 

“What is it,” he says as he swims to her, cradling her close, panic overtaking the delicate emotions of love. 

“Ankle,” she hisses, ducking her head into his neck. “Think I twisted it, or something. I hit a rock pretty hard at the bottom.” 

“What happened?” asks Sage, swimming up to them, Ryssa in tow. 

“I’m okay, sweetheart,” __________ says weakly. “Think I just hit my ankle on a rock.” 

“We have to get to the infirmary!” the young girl cries, frantically waving to the other kids. “Ryssa, round up the others.” 

“No, Sage, don’t--” she tries, but the damage is done. 

Prompto helps her limp to shore, the twenty adolescents crowded around them. Prompto bends down to inspect her left ankle as Kaya and Lydia help hold her steady on her other foot. 

__________ hisses in pain as Prompto tenderly touches the swollen joint. “Yeah, it’s twisted or sprained or something,” he says, sighing, trying to keep his clearly-upset voice in check. 

“Dammit, I’m such a klutz,” __________ mumbles, wiping a tear from her eye. She looks at her girls. “Does anyone wanna go get a set of crutches from the infirmary for me?” 

Prompto grins widely and shakes his head, looking up at his best friend and blushing, brain scrambling to realize that she’s still in the bikini. “Nah, no need ladies! Watch this.” Prompto rolls his shoulders and in one fluid motion, sweeps ___________ off her feet and into his arms, princess style, much to the gasping and giggling of Blue Cabin 2. 

___________’s eyes go wide and she blushes a deep red. “Prompto!” she squeaks. “Ho- _how?_ ” 

“Dude,” says Prompto, all smug and confident for once. “I can free-climb the camp’s rock wall in like ten minutes. I run every day. I lift weights at the gym around the corner from my house like four times a week. You think I’m not strong enough to pick you up?” 

“Bu-but,” she blubbers, partly from pain, partly from the rush of arousal that’s suddenly coursing through her thick body. “I’m--” 

“So what?” Prompto shrugs. “What do I care? I can lift you all the same. I’m barely breaking a sweat.” He looks at the kids. “One of you get her clothes and her backpack. Adrian, radio the infirmary and tell them we’re on our way,” he instructs one of his boys. 

The kids scramble to comply, and Prompto walks ahead of them, his best friend in his strong arms. 

“This is the kind of content I’m here for,” Kaya says, shouldering __________’s backpack as she speeds up to trot alongside Lydia and Caius. “I mean do you _see_ those two?” 

“She must feel like a princess,” Lydia sighs, bumping shoulders with Caius, who rolls his eyes. 

“They’re so obvious,” he hisses. “Why are they so stupid to each other about it?” 

“Hush boy, these things take time,” says Lydia, flipping her sunglasses back down on her nose. “Kaya, my lady. We have _got_ to come up with a plan to get Mr. P and Miss __________ to go out with each other.” 

Kaya nods, slinging her arm around her best friend. “I think I have an idea.” 


	6. You should think about the consequence/Of your magnetic field being a little too strong

“Three weeks until I’m off crutches,” you whine into your morning coffee. “ This sucks big time. That’s almost the entire last month of camp.”

“I blame the boys for making you do a cannonball,”  Prompto laughs. 

You chuckle and shake your head. “Nah, it’s not their fault. Remember when I slipped on a banana peel in eighth grade?”

“Oh gods, you went down like Wile E. Coyote,”  Prompto snorts as he shoves the cheese omelet into his mouth. “But this  _ does _ put a damper on your fencing.”

You nod slowly. “I was doing so well, too. Not much I can do if I can’t do the footwork.”

Prompto suddenly lights up as though he’s gotten an idea. “Hey,” he drawls. “You do realize, uh. That we’re friends with Noctis. Who’s magic.”

“I am  _ not  _ making Noctis  _ or _ glaives drive all the way out here to give me a damn potion. Relax, Prom, I’ll be fine.” 

Prompto raises an angled eyebrow but says nothing, swallowing down more coffee, wincing. “Ugh,” he whispers. “This coffee is like having sex in a canoe.”

“The  _ children _ ,” you laugh—but they’re not paying attention, wrapped up in their own conversations around the long cedar table. “What, the coffee’s good?”

“No,” says  Prompto , sighing. “It’s fucking close to water.”

You snort, pushing your face against his strong bicep (the one that had carried you like you were  _ nothing _ , a fact that still has you reeling), laughing into  Prompto’s warm skin. “What a nerd.”

“Seriously, how do you screw up coffee this badly?”

You shrug, sitting up again to shovel more half-burned hash browns into your mouth. “It is pretty bad, but I guess I’m used to it.”

“Does Amazon deliver out here,” says  Prompto . “I’m buying a cold brew maker and a bag of Pike Place Roast.”

“We could sneak into the rec center. They have a Keurig.”

“ Oh thank the gods. We’ll get in on your ankle. Give me your best pitiful face.”

You do an instant pout, and  Prompto nods. “Perfection.” 

You laugh again and finish breakfast, one of the girls catching your attention and drawing you into some lighthearted conversation about chocobos. 

Breakfast ends, and it’s time to wobble your way to the morning fencing class, where all you’re going to be able to do for the next three weeks is supervise, not participate. You sigh heavily, cursing your rotten luck—you really were getting a feel for the swordplay, and were excited about at least having a leg up ( _ ha! _ ) on knowing the basic tenants of sword-fighting. You shoulder your backpack and grab the crutches, watching all of the kids scramble out into nature, eager to start the day. Your ankle is wrapped tightly in  _ ace _ bandages to keep it stable, and you’ve shelved your sandals for now, knowing that sneakers are your best bet for support. You sigh into the nearly-empty hall and make your way towards the door, when another counselor hollers your name and waves you over to where she’s sitting. 

“What’s up, Farah?” You sit awkwardly next to the counselor in charge of the rowdy cabin of 8- to 11-year-olds, instantly feeling empathy when you see her tired brown eyes. That was the age you and  Prompto worked with for your first two years of camp, and it’s definitely difficult. 

“Hey, _________, sorry to hear about your ankle.” 

You shrug. “Ah, it’s okay. Stupid accident, no big deal. Is everything okay with you? You seem...nervous.”

Farah blushes a little, and you have to admit, it’s a cute look on the tall, olive-skinned girl. “I, uh.” She fidgets for a second. “You know  Prompto , right? I mean...obviously you do. You are with him like, all the time.”

You swallow thickly and nod. “Uh, yeah. We’ve  kinda been best friends for like. A long ass time,” you laugh. 

“Do you know...what types of girls he likes?”

The question doesn’t surprise you. You’ve been asked it before, by many a counselor who’s tried to get with the blond. Who wouldn’t want him, anyway? Every time he walks by you, you sin—but strangely, Prom’s never had a girlfriend. Something twists in your gut at Farah’s words. She’s striking—rumor has it that she’s a model from  Lestallum , that she and her family are war refugees, but that’s all hearsay, mostly from Nova, who’s known to be a jealous bitch, but—Farah really  _ is _ pretty. “I, uh.” You scratch awkwardly at your hair, which is on day three of the fishtail braids that Gratia had given you after your accident. “I mean, he’s never really said?”

“Oh, uh, okay. I was wondering...do you think he’d say yes if I asked him out?”

Time stops. 

After realizing that  Prompto was strong enough to not only pick you up, but carry you a fair distance (at least three-quarters of a mile from the lake across the campgrounds and up slight  _ hill _ to the infirmary), you were starting to think that maybe it wouldn’t be weird for you and  Prompto to date, after all. Honestly, looking back over the years, not once had  Prompto ever insulted you or made you feel less than for being heavier—he had even asked you to the senior dance as a friend, so the two of you wouldn’t be alone, and he’d been nothing but complimentary about your dress and makeup. And now he’s strong enough to lift you like you weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet—maybe...maybe your relationship could be so much better than the old media-driven trope of “small girl/large boy.” 

These feelings had been slowly stirring in your heart, threatening to bubble to the surface even as  Prompto had fussed and fawned over you in the infirmary, refusing to leave your side, face contorted in worry and panic. But hearing Farah’s confession knocks the wind out of you, and all of your confidence melts away. 

“I mean—yeah, go for it. Yeah. You’re really beautiful, y’know?”

Farah smiles, perfect white teeth shining in the empty mess hall. “Okay. Thanks _________.”

“Yeah--no problem!”

_ Fuck.  _

While fencing was mainly just you supervising the kids and getting lessons on how to properly hold a sword, rifle practice was much more productive. When  Prompto’s in  _ teach  _ mode, he has no concept of personal space—he comes up behind you and corrects your shoulder movements, whispers in your ear, lays his strong arms on top of yours to position you. Somehow you manage to focus and hit your target a good 90% of the time, which earns you more encouragement from  Prompto . (Who knew that having your crush compliment you  was such a powerful motivator?) 

When lunch time rolls around, one of the assistant directors, Baz, comes up to where you’re seated with your girls and claps you on the shoulder. “Pretty nasty sprain you have there.”

You finish chewing your hamburger and nod. “Uh, yes sir. I’ll be okay though. Hasn’t impacted me much aside from having to bow out of fencing practice with the kids.”

Baz smiles, dark green eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, that might soon be remedied. Uh, we got some guys in the visitor’s center who want to see you.”

You look at Prompto, who’s had his eyes fixed on Baz this whole time. “Can Prom and the kids come with me?”

Baz surveys the table and nods. “Give your cabins a special treat, a little after-lunch break, if you want. They can go. I don’t mind this once.”

You smile. “Thanks Baz.”

“ Noct ?! Iggy, Gladio?” 

Prompto holds the door open to the camp’s sprawling visitor’s center and you hobble inside on crutches, all twenty boys and girls shuffling in shyly behind you, giggles and whispers of  _ Oh gods it’s Prince Noctis! _ resounding among them.  Prompto shushes the group and strides up to Noct, hugging him tightly. 

“Hey buddy!” he says, unable to contain the excitement in his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Tired of you losers leaving me all summer,”  Noct groans, making Iggy and  Gladio roll their eyes. Noctis steps away from his hug and walks up to you, hugging you as much as he can while you’re holding yourself up on crutches. “Have you told him yet?” the prince whispers in your ear, pulling back with a smirk. 

“No! Shut up, you loser!” 

Noct laughs and shakes his head. “Hopeless.”

Prompto raises an eyebrow. “Wait--did I miss something?”

“No,” you say, at the same time  Noct says, “Yes.”

“Hush, princeling! Why are you here?” You look from Noctis to his two retainers, jerking your heads back to the gaggle of kids crowding around near the large redwood doors. “You’re scaring my children.”

“I’m not scared,” Lydia mutters under her breath, face a deep red as she looks at Noctis. 

“We heard you had an unfortunate accident,” says Ignis, gliding forward, kneeling at your feet, gently lifting the offending foot. 

You wince as Ignis tenderly slides off your sock and shoe, unwrapping the bandage and titling your bare ankle this way and that. 

“Hm, quite sprained, I’d say. Luckily, I have something that might shorten your time on crutches.” Ignis flicks his wrist and glowing blue vial of liquid drops from thin air, leaving a crackle of magic in its wake. 

With wide eyes, you turn to  Prompto . “Dude I  _ told _ you not to call them for this!”

Prompto holds his hands up defensively and sputters. “Chill bro, it wasn’t me!”

“It was me,” says the director, Caesar, coming into the main area from his side office. “His Highness called to make sure the two of you were all right, and well—I couldn’t very well lie to my prince about your ankle, Miss __________, could I?”

You sigh and look at Noct, who’s smiling at you like a cat who got the cream. “Sorry, I really kind of panicked when I heard you got hurt.”

“Practically warped out of Insomnia to get here,” chuckles  Gladio . 

You sigh and shake your head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“You’re  gonna shut up and drink that potion,” says Noctis. 

You sigh and take the potion from Iggy’s long, gloved fingers and uncap it, drinking the potion in a few swallows, shivering in the weird aftertaste. But within seconds you’re glowing, and your ankle fades from red back to your normal skin color. You flex it—it's still stiff, but it doesn’t hurt nearly as bad, and sprain seems to be gone completely.

“Much better,” Ignis murmurs, feeling your tender skin. “I would continue on the crutches for today, but tomorrow, you should be back to your normal range of movement.” He looks up at you and grins beautifully. “Can’t have you missing too much fencing practice, after all, now can we?”

“Indeed,”  Casear cuts in. “We need our best counselor at full operating capacity.”

You sniff a little and wipe your eyes, looking from Ignis to  Noct . “Thank you,” you whisper. 

“No problem,” says Noct. 

“Highness,” says Casear. “Would you like a tour of the camp?”

“Is there fishing?”  Noct lifts a dark eyebrow, curious. 

“Of course.”

“Oh boy,” says Gladio.

“Deal,” says Noctis, grinning. 

________

After dinner and  Noct’s departure from the camp, you’re hobbling back toward the cabin to take a quick shower, most of the girls running around with their friends now that the day’s scheduled activities are done. As you approach the cabins, you notice  Prompto and Farah off to the side, standing underneath White Cabin 3.  Prompto’s back is to you, and Farah’s attention is focused on him—they don’t notice you slipping around the back of White Cabin 4, kneeling behind the hot water shed outside. 

“Hey Farah!”  Prompto says, bright and unassuming as ever. “ Whadja wanna ask me?”

“Um, well,” Farah falters for a second, then lets out a long exhale. “I really like you,  Prompto . Will you go out with me?”

_ Damn, it really is as simple as that? Where is the disconnect in your stupid head? Why can’t you be that open and honest with your best friend?  _

“Oh--uh,”  Prompto stammers. “I, uh...wow, wow I was not expecting that,” he chuckles nervously. “Geez man. Listen, I--”  Prompto sighs. “I’m really sorry, Farah. It’s not you—it's, it’s me. There’s already...”

“...someone else you like,” Farah finished quietly. “I see.” She wipes a few stray tears from her eyes and looks away. “I’m sorry to bother you, Prompto, I--”

“Hey, no, listen! I’m really, really flattered. You’re really beautiful, and super nice, it’s not like you’re a bad person or anything, I just--”

“Will you tell me who it is?” The tears on Farah’s pretty round face are shining in the late evening sun. 

Prompto inhales sharply as you wait with bated breath to hear his answer. 

“No offense,” he says quietly. “I’d really rather keep that private. But chin up, Farah. There’s someone out there for  ya . Have a good night, okay?”

“Yeah, I—thanks. Uh, you too.”

Prompto smiles sadly and turns, jogging down the hill and across to the Blue Cabins, meeting his boys on the porch and ushering them inside to decompress from the day. 

While most of you is pretty happy about his rejection to Farah, the other part of you is now riddled with even more anxiety about  Prompto’s mystery crush. Why has he never said anything to you before? You’ve been best friends since you were both twelve years old, and tell each other  _ virtually _ everything—why would he keep such a secret from you? You wait until Farah goes inside her cabin, and you hobble to Blue Cabin 2, feeling as confused and as hurt as ever. 


	7. You've ruined my life, by not being mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first time I shaved my legs was at 12 years old at a 2-week camp in North Carolina. The older girls sat me on the porch with a bucket, a hose, and their own razors and cans of shaving cream and helped me. 

Another Saturday  rolls around, and tomorrow begins the fourth week of camp. Parent day is in two days—on Monday, all the usual activities are even more amped up, with parents and guardians following their respective kids to the different stations to see the crafts they’ve made, the progress in activity levels, the songs and plays they’ve memorized. You’re sitting on the porch of your cabin, watching the girls dip their heads into buckets full of  kool-aid , dying their hair various colors of pink, blue, and green.  Aemelia received a care box from her grandmother yesterday, and as soon as she’d opened it and found the  kool-aid , Lydia had looked at her with that twinkle in her eye, and well—cue right now, on the porch, in bathing suits with all of the plastic 5-gallon buckets that you could find around camp.  Trissia , Gratia, Sage, and  Haeley are all sitting with a different bucket and the long water hose, shaving their legs and talking about their on-again, off-again summer flings from Green Cabin 4. Lydia and Kaya have their pink hair up in buns and are helping  Ryssa and Tiffanie dip their heads in the buckets of green  kool-aid mixtures. 

You’re sitting in a bathing suit top and some lounge shorts, slathered in sunscreen and watching the girls through your cheap plastic sunglasses from the camp store. You’d taken advantage of the hose and the water buckets and shaved your own legs (and armpits, and face, and stomach) earlier, so now you’re just watching them, getting swept up in their conversations and idle chatter. Suddenly, there’s a catcall from below your cabin—you turn, and  Prompto is standing there, holding two plastic cups with red straws in his hand. 

You recognize the iconic cup logo immediately. “Holy shit, is that  _ iced coffee _ ? From Ebony Roasters?!”

Prompto smirks and nods, rounding the cabin and bounding up the stairs two at a time, sliding onto the built-in benches that wrap around the porch. “You bet your ass.” He hands you a cup. 

The girls all look up from the shaving and hair-dyeing as  Prompto approaches, blushing red and giggling, murmurs of “Hey Mr. P” thrown his way as he scoots on the bench. 

“Who did you kill to get this all the way out here?” You swirl the cup, watching the coffee tornado inside of it. 

“Camilla and  Baz had it catered this afternoon for counselors.”  Prompto sits back, not-so- subtly putting his arm on the wooden railing behind you. 

You instinctively shift closer, crossing one chunky leg over the other and resting a sandaled foot on his bare knee. You lean into his side and take a sip of the dark cold brew, eyes fluttering closed in euphoria. “Damn, I really missed this. How did I not know about this sacred offering?”

Prompto grazes your bare shoulder with his fingers as he sips his own drink. “Well, you’ve been playing hair salon all afternoon, obviously.” He motions to the giggling teens with now-rainbow hair. “If you guys had come to the mess hall for evening assembly, you would’ve known.”

“Psh, c’mon. Missing one assembly isn’t that bad.”

Prompto laughs. “Only like three cabins were there anyways.”

You smile at him, heart fluttering. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

“Hey, what are best friends for?”  Prompto grins. 

You watch curiously as some of the girls hurry inside of the cabin in a rush of hushed whispers and laughter. 

_________

“Are you  _ watching _ this?” Lydia hisses, pushing the other girls to the back of the cabin. “Look at them! They might as well be on a damn date.”

Kaya folds her arms across her chest, sighing. “It would be awfully romantic if they weren’t so oblivious.”

“I mean, did you hear Miss ____ last night? She practically cried herself to sleep,” Augusta says sadly. 

“Well  _ I  _ heard,” whispers Aemelia, “that Miss Farah from White Cabin 3 asked Mr. P out the other day.”

“Wait  _ what _ ?” Lydia’s jaw drops. “You’re kidding!”

“No. My cousin, Aerin, is in her cabin. She told me that Miss Farah was shot down.”

“That’s a good sign, at least,” says Kaya, nodding. “Lydia, have you come up with anything yet?”

Lydia pouts. “Not really. You?”

“Actually,” says Kaya, smirking. “I was talking to Claudio, and I think we have a tentative plan.”

“Spill,” says  Aemelia , eyes sparkling. 

“Okay. What if the boys ask Mr. P to take them hiking up in the woods behind camp, and they trick him into practicing a confession.”

“Oooooh,” says Lydia, bouncing on one of the bottom bunks. “I dig it. Please continue.”

“ So while the boys are hiking with Mr. P,  _ we _ ask _________ to take us hiking, too. On the opposite path of the boys.  So Mr. P doesn’t know we’re there. One of us, and one of the guys, has a walkie talkie, so we can signal to each other at just the right moment. The plan is to come up to where the guys are making Mr. P practice the confession and have ___________ overhear him.”

“Right,” says Aemelia. “Because we all know she’s stubborn and she won’t actually believe us if we tell her that he likes her back. She has to hear it from him.”

“Exactly,” says Kaya. “And we just play it off like, ‘Wow what a coincidence the boys are hiking too.’ I mean if they figure it out afterwards it won’t really matter, right?  ‘Cause then they will figure out that it’s mutual.” 

“Solid plan,” says Lydia. “Let’s meet with the guys later, before our usual campfire sing-along, and flesh out the details.”

_________

Sunday brings a torrential downpour, complete with thunder and lightning, keeping everyone inside for safety reasons. After everyone’s morning shower, the girls decide that it’s the perfect laundry day, digging out the Tide Pods and dryer sheets their parents had packed in baggies in their suitcases. All of the cabins are equipped with a stacked washer and dryer, the kind that a studio apartment might have—not the best, but hey, it gets the job done, at least. Halfway through helping everyone wash their clothes, the loudspeaker in the middle of camp blares an instrumental version of the camp’s theme song, followed by Assistant Director Camilla’s voice:  _ “Would the counselors of Green and Blue cabins report to the rec center for a meeting! I repeat, staff meeting for Green and Blue counselors! White and Black cabins, please bring your campers to the gym to supervision! White and Black counselors, to the gym for a staff meeting and camper supervision.” _

You sigh as you drop the last of the girls’ clothes into the tiny washer and push knobs to start the cycle. “Damn, can’t even get out of a meeting in this rain,” you mumble to yourself as you stumble into jean shorts, this year’s camp shirt, and sneakers, throwing your hair into a headband and digging out the new waterproof anorak your parents had gotten you. “Are you all going to be okay without me?”

“_________,” says Lydia, who’s hanging off her top bunk upside down. “This happens every other week. I think we got this.”

“Okay,” you nod, turning to where Gratia and  Trissia are making friendship bracelets on their bed. “You two are in charge. Please finish your laundry, and don’t flood the cabin.”

“What about burning it down?” Tiffanie deadpans. 

“Not that, either,” you say, laughing. 

“I’m  _ hungry _ ,” groans Kaya. “Please tell me we’re doing more for lunch than the drive-by cold breakfast they brought us this morning.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,  _ your majesty _ ,” you tease back, bowing all low and dramatic. “Didst the cereal bars and wee cartons of whole milk not please thy palate?”

Aemelia cackles as she swats Kaya on the thigh. “Get wrecked, picky puss!”

Kaya pouts as she looks at you. “As your queen, I demand better sustenance.”

“Oh yeah, who voted you in charge?”  Ryssa pipes up from her bunk. 

“Fool! You don’t  _ vote  _ for a  monarch, they’re appointed by the gods!”

“Okay, well, if I see Bahamut outside, I’ll be sure to confirm your claim to the throne,” you say, opening the door. 

“Don’t forget lunch!” Kaya calls out as the cabin door slams shut behind you. 

Downstairs,  Prompto is waiting by your cabin steps in his own waterproof jacket, holding a large golf umbrella and smiling as you descend. 

“What’s all the racket in there?” he laughs, putting his arm around you and drawing you close under the umbrella so you don’t get as wet.

Shivering from both the cool rain and the close contact, you laugh and shake your head. “They’re just being the usual goobers that they are. We’ve been doing laundry all day. But Kaya has announced that she’s queen of the cabin and has demanded a better lunch.”

“What, she thought breakfast was subpar?”  Prompto laughs, side-stepping to avoid a puddle, drawing you along with him. 

“Ah, something like that,” you laugh back. “If they don’t behead the queen and flood the cabin with laundry detergent in my absence, I’ll consider myself blessed.”

Prompto just snorts. 

After the meeting is over, the thunderstorm devolves into just a light downpour, with the nearly-black sky fading to a dull gray. You and  Prompto are carrying catered pizzas back to the cabins—each cabin got four, two pepperoni and two cheese. You smile, knowing the girls will be elated. 

“Hey,” says  Prompto , somehow balancing both the pizzas and the umbrella as the two of you walk back across camp. “You guys  wanna have lunch together?”

“Um,  _ duh _ ,” you say, smiling at him, getting lost—as usual—in his bright violet-blue eyes. “Your cabin or mine?”

“ Uuuuuuuh ...okay I’m not  gonna lie, Blue Cabin 4 looks like a bomb went off inside of it.”

“You think ours looks any better?”

Prompto laughs, shaking his head. “I believe it. But yours probably  _ smells _ better, anyway.” He wrinkles his nose. “I wish the rain would let up, then we could eat outside.”

“Maybe it will. Here, give me your pizzas and I’ll take them inside.”

Prompto loads you down with his lunch and sprints to his cabin to gather his boys.  Smiling, you ascend the slippery steps and shout for one of the girls to let you in. 


	8. There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

By the middle of the fifth week,  Prompto knows that something’s up. He’s had  _ two  _ other camp counselors ask him out just  _ today _ —Aqua and Septimus from the Green cabins. Scratching his head,  Prompto wanders up to Blue Cabin 2. It’s after dinner, certified free time, and there’s still over three hours of light left. His boys are goofing off around the gym and the soccer pitch, and they still have some time before their usual campfire sing-alongs. He sighs, a little weary from the roiling emotions in his heart, and knocks on the door. 

___________ answers, eyes tired but smiling at him like he’s the only thing that matters. It makes  Prompto’s tender heart skip a beat and it’s all he can do to not push her against the outside cabin wall and kiss her senseless right there. Her round face is a little sunburned, and  Prompto thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. 

“Hey,” she says. “What’s up?”

“Hey,”  Prompto says, looking down, suddenly nervous. “Can I talk to you?”

“Yeah, I mean—yeah, always, Prom. The girls are out roaming around. Come inside.” 

Prompto follows her inside and sits at the edge of her bed while she plops near the headboard, clutching the stuffed  chocobo plush that  Prompto had won for her last year at the arcade. 

“Is everything okay?”

Prompto shrugs, shaking his head. “Yes--no—I don’t know?” He turns to her with tears in the corners of his eyes. “So, you know Farah asked me out, right?”

__________ nods. “I thought I’d heard something about that.”

“I turned her down.” 

“Heard that too.”

“News travels fast, I guess.”  Prompto fidgets with the ten woven bracelets on his wrist that kids had given him over the course of the summer. 

“No, I uh. Kinda overheard the whole thing.”

“Oh.”  Prompto tries to breathe. “ So then you heard her ask me who it was that I  _ did  _ like.”

“Yeah. You said it was private.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, okay. I respect you, Prom. I’d never make you tell me anything you didn’t want to.”

“Okay,”  Prompto breathes. “I’m just...I’m scared, y’know? I’ve known this person for a while and I don’t want to fuck things up.” He sniffs hard, pushing the heel of his palm into his eyes. “Goddamn, I’m such a coward.” 

“You are  _ not _ ,” ___________ says with all the conviction in the world. 

“I am,”  Prompto continues to cry. His confession is on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t make himself do it. “And today—just  _ today _ , two more people asked me out! What the hell. It’s like they’re playing process of elimination to try to figure it out!”

__________ releases the  chocobo plush and scoots down to the foot of the bed, wrapping her chubby arms around him. 

Prompto goes lax immediately, returning her hug and burying his face in the side of her neck while he cries. There’s the smell of coconut suntan lotion, crisp pine from the dryer sheets she uses, the pungent alcohol of the bug spray—and underneath it all, the natural smell of her lavender deodorant, and something else so uniquely  _ her _ . It smells like home to Prompto, and he never wants to leave this spot. 

“I’m sorry,” he says minutes later. “You must think I’m--”

“I think you’re  _ you _ ,  Prompto ,” she says softly. “You have such a big, tender heart. It’s not fair for people to play with it like that.”

Prompto shakes his head and sniffs. “I mean on one level I’m flattered, but like...it’s a little much, y’know?”

___________ nods. “Yeah, I get it. I mean, I wouldn’t know, y’know, because that kind of stuff—doesn't happen to me.”

Prompto stays silent, heartbeat deafening in his ears.  _ Should I just tell her? Would she think I was doing it out of pity? Would she believe me if I told her that I’ve been in love with her for years _ ?

“But seriously, if it makes you uncomfortable, just say so,” __________ says again, a little sad. She rubs her fingertips along his bare bicep and  Prompto shivers unconsciously, slightly panicking as goosebumps surface on his skin. 

He swallows hard, trying to calm down from the panic. 

Sometime later, the cabin door swings open, and the girls of Blue Cabin stop dead still in the doorway to see their counselor and  Prompto snuggled on the bed, holding each other tight. Lydia presses a finger to her lips and ushers her fellow campers outside to wait for them to wake up. 

_________

“So how many are you up to  _ now _ ?” __________ asks at breakfast several days later, on Saturday. 

Prompto huffs into his coffee. “Every. Single. One. Even  _ Caesar _ , but I think he was just doing it as a gag.” He flicks his eyes to his best friend. “At least I hope it’s over now.”

“They probably think it’s not even someone in camp anymore, so that’s good.” 

Prompto says nothing and takes a long drag from the coffee mug, wincing at the watered-down beverage. 

Before _________ can say anything else, one of her campers, Lydia—definitely the most outspoken and the natural leader of the girls—bangs her hands on the table, a sort of  _ boom-boom-clap  _ rhythm, until all nineteen other kids are following her lead.  Prompto raises an eyebrow at the teen, and at Caius, who’s sitting next to her, hanging on her every action. 

“Attention dearest counselors,” Lydia says, addressing them both. “Cabin 2 and Cabin 4 have a joint request to make.”

“Oh boy,” _________ mutters under her breath. 

“Will you take us on an overnight hike in the woods?”

Prompto sits up with a start and looks at __________. 

“Like...all of you?” she asks. 

The young girl nods, grinning. “C’mon, there’s two cabins in the woods behind camp, right? It’ll be a good adventure.”

___________ scratches her head. “I  dunno , Lydia...it could be dangerous, we don’t know what sort of wild animals are out there...”

“We could always carry a couple of rifles,”  Prompto offers, shrugging. 

“You’re not helping,” ___________ whines, whipping her head around to him. 

“Aw, c’mon Mom and Dad, don’t fight,” Kaya teases, making some of the younger campers snicker. 

Prompto turns beat red and sputters out a reply. “Just for that, the answer is no!”

Lydia pouts. “But why, Mr. P?” 

Prompto huffs and looks at _________, whose face is twisted in thought. 

“Well,” she says slowly, dragging her tired gaze over the eager teenage faces. “I suppose all of you have been really good…”

“We have, we have!” says one of Prompto’s boys, Leo, prompting several others to chime in with agreement. 

“Camp Catoblepas honor,” says Lydia, putting one hand over her heard and holding up the other with her pointer and middle fingers outstretched. “I hereby declare that the girls of Blue Cabin 2 have abided by all of the camp rules. I swear on the Founder King’s name.”

Prompto snorts, knowing Noctis would probably laugh at the Lucis Caelum family reference. Caius catches his eye and does the same, vouching for all of the boys. 

__________ looks at him. “Well,” she says. “I mean we haven’t had any trouble with them, right? The least we can do is talk to Baz and Camilla.”

Prompto smiles. “Sounds like a plan.”

The two assistant directors gave them the green light, so Prompto is bustling with excitement as he packs his backpack. The boys are all bundles of energy, bouncing off the cabin walls while he tries to corral them into actually packing an overnight bag. The two cabins are in the hills behind the camp—it’s about a three hour hike. There are two routes up the steep, winding forests; he and the boys will take one route, and the girls will take the other, and they’ll meet up in the cabins. There’s no running water or electricity, so it’ll be true roughing it—making fires, catching small animals to eat, finding a stream to fill their water canteens. But Prompto’s excited to get some time away from the petty rumor mill that the other counselors have got going on, eager to just spend time with his kids and share his camping knowledge (thanks Gladio!), and to spend even more intimate time with his best friend. 

_______

“Okay, is everyone ready?” You double-check your backpack again: medical supplies, biodegradable soap and shampoo, extra clothes and toothbrush, flashlight, lint, matches, emergency radio, long-range walkie-talkie, protein bars, water bottle, bug spray, bathing suit, rags, paper towels, and knife. Haeley is in charge of carrying the two fishing poles and tackle so that you all can catch dinner—she’d taken fishing lessons the last two years at camp, and is a self-proclaimed bass master, knowing how to clean the fish of its head and scales. Aemelia and Trissia are in charge of carrying the extra linens you all will need for the cots in the cabin. Kaya and Lydia are in charge of the toilet paper; and Augusta and Sage are loaded up with bows and arrows to kill small game. With all of the girls loaded up with their survival and overnight gear, you lead them out of the camp proper and behind the director’s cabin to the marked trail that does nothing but wind up and up and up to the steep foothills. If one were to stand in the middle of camp and look directly north, they would be able to see the jagged cliffs where the two cabins sit, overlooking the sprawling lake on the edge of Camp Catoblepas. 

You flick the walkie-talkie to frequency  _ 15 _ and radio at Prompto’s group. “ChocoBro Two, this is Moogle One, do you copy, over.” 

The walkie buzzes to life seconds later, Prompto’s bright voice coming through with a laugh. “We read you loud and clear, Moogle One. This is ChocoBro Two, headed up the east route to Clifftop Camp. We’ll check in at 1100 hours, over.”

“Roger, ChocoBro Two, over and out.” You clip the walkie on the edge of your shorts as you lead your girls to up into the forest. 

It’s a pretty day, with few clouds in the sky, and it’s still early enough in the morning—ten am—to not be sweltering hot. The girls are in good spirits, even the younger ones, and they spend the first hour stopping to identify animal tracks, pointing out birds and bugs, singing as many camp songs as they know, and talking about their plans for the rest of camp, and the schoolyear beyond. 

You smile, idle thoughts drifting, as always, to Prompto. You can’t wait to meet up with him at the cabins and share in the overnight adventure with him.


	9. But if you're single that's honestly worse/‘Cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It happens.

You check your watch and the compass on its face, noting the position of the sun and looking to the ground to make sure you’re still following along the path noted by the tiny plastic flags in the ground. Only a few of the older girls have managed to keep pace with you—Haeley, Trissia, and Aemelia are talking low among themselves, just a step or two behind you—you can hear the others giggling several feet back, whispering into the walkie talkie. You roll your eyes and shake your head, wondering what on earth they could be talking to the boys about for so long. After you all had stopped for a snack and a bathroom break—which, okay, you were seriously considering asking for a bonus for helping ten tweens and teens pee in the woods—you’d checked in with Prompto, and then Kaya and Lydia had begged for the walkie. You were sure that they were up to something, but you were too afraid to ask what.

“How much further?” Aemelia asks.

“About twenty minutes, if my watch is right.”

“Ugh, finally,” says Haeley, giving Trissia her water bottle.

“Hey, don’t complain! You girls are the ones that wanted to do this. But we can take five if you need to?” You stop and turn, looking down the sloping wooded path to see the other seven girls giggling and barely walking, passing the walkie back and forth and looking back at you in hushed whispers, squeeing in mischief and then giggling into the walkie again.

With a heavy sigh, you leave the three older ones and backtrack to the rest of the group. “Hey slowpokes,” you say with a smile, holding out your hand for the walkie, which Kaya reluctantly puts in your palm. “We’re almost there. Pick up the pace. You don’t want the boys to beat us there, do you?”

Lydia puffs out her chest and gives the Camp Catoblepas salute. “Ma’am, no ma’am!” she says loudly, bright eyes twinkling.

“I _know_ you all are up to something, but I’m not even gonna ask. C’mon, let’s go. I’m fat and tired,” you laugh as you shake your head, clipping the walkie back on your shorts.

The girls all giggle along with you, Ryssa and Tiffanie taking each of your hands and swinging them. As soon as all of you are reunited at the top of the hill where the other three older girls are waiting, you all break out into your favorite camp songs, hiking the final mile to the clifftop cabins with eager hearts.

______

“Okay, okay, what’s this all about?” Prompto asks as the boys lead him not to the cabins directly, but to the large glen that’s closer to the eastern trail leading back down to Camp Catoblepas. Claudio and Dominic drop their backpacks and shuffle around in them until they’re bring out an old _______ -colored wig and a dress.

“What are you…did you guys steal that from the theater kids?” Prompto sighs as he sees Claudio helping the taller boy get in disguise. “What in the world are you knuckleheads plotting?”

The rest of the boys are giggling like their Cabin 2 counterparts.

Caius whistles. “Damn Dominic, you really pull that off! You shoulda’ been the lead in _Romeo and Juliet_ this summer.”

“Can it, asshole,” Dominic mutters. He sighs as he turns to face Prompto, Claduio stepping away with his hands on his hips, looking the other boy up and down with pride.

Prompto’s bright blue eyes nearly bug out of his head. Dominic has stuffed not only the top of his dress, but the waist as well, and with the ______ wig…Prompto’s gut twists as he realizes he’s trying to emulate __________. “What’s going on,” he says, voice tight, not wanting to believe that his boys are making fun of his best friend.

“It’s not what you think!” says Dominic, waving his hands in defense. He sighs. “Look, Mr. P. We really want you to get confident when it comes to Miss _________. So I thought I’d pretend to be her and you can like…rehearse your confession or whatever.” He looks away to the other boys, who nod and voice their agreement.

Prompto relaxes a little. “You’re not making fun of her?”

“No, no! She’s super cool and we know you really like her, so we just wanted to help, honest!”

“C’mon, Mr. P! You can do this!” calls Julian.

Prompto chuckles and shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “You guys are something else,” he mutters, but his heart can’t help but swell at their concern for his (nonexistent) love life.

“We know you were like, super emotional or whatever after everyone was trying to figure out who you like,” says Oliver, adjusting his glasses. “And we know that she means a lot to you. So that’s why we’re going to help you practice.”

Prompto sighs, flicking his eyes back up to the teenager in bad drag. “Okay,” he mumbles. “I’ll give it a shot.”

Dominic grins. “Perfect.”

_______

“Ssshhhhhh!” hisses Lydia, who’s wormed her way to the front of the group. She’s three paces ahead of you; and beyond, you can see the wide open clearing that’s just in front of the cabins.

The two log structures are just behind a small row of trees on the far end of the meadow, but this wide open space has long been a favorite of yours to just sit and look at the stars, or to pick flowers that don’t grow anywhere else in Lucis. You frown as some of the girls begin to whisper, tugging you back from entering the open patch pf grass and wildflowers.

“What?” you whisper, crouching down with the girls. All eleven of you are hidden behind the trees, now, and through the thick branches you can see several of Prompto’s boys—you move your head slightly left, shifting to the other side of Sage, and there—there’s Prompto, standing in front of one of his campers, who’s in a…a dress? And a wig? You shoot eyes to Lydia and Kaya, who are smirking at each other. You _knew_ it. “Hey, troublemakers,” you whisper, patting them on the shoulder. “What are you up to?”

“Come here to the front, __________,” says Lydia, dragging you by the wrist. The other girls part like oil from water pushing you up behind the tree that’s closest to the meadow.

The boys, and Prompto, don’t seem to notice that any of you are there. The girls can be oddly quiet when they put their minds to it—all you can hear are the cicadas on the trees (gross), some birds, the nearby babbling brook that snakes behind the cabins, and…Prompto’s voice. You strain your ears and listen in awe to the conversation he’s having with the teen in front of him.

“Okay, Mr. P. I think you’ve got it. Why don’t we give it a trial run?”

“Are you sure they’re not close?” asks Prompto, fidgeting, looking around at his group of campers. “We left around the same time, surely they can’t be that far behind us.”

“Nah,” says Leo, waving the walkie talkie. “I talked to Kaya just a few minutes ago. They’re still over a mile away.”

Prompto gulps and nods, looking at Dominic in front of him. He lets out a slow exhale. “________,” he says quietly. “I’ve had a crush on you for a really long time. Would you please go out with me?”

Dominic folds his arms over his cartoonishly large chest and shakes his head. “C’mon, Mr. P! This is the woman of your dreams we’re talking about here! Say it like you mean it!”

Prompto inhales, squints his eyes shut, balls his fists at his sides and almost screams at the young boy: “_________, I’ve had a crush on you for a really long time! Would you please go out with me?!”

_______

You feel your cheeks instantly heat up, and you stumble backwards, almost losing your footing. The girls rush to help you hunker down in the rustling of the trees and grass so that the boys won’t see. You can’t think, you can barely speak. You blink watery eyes up at Lydia and Kaya. “What…what the hell was that?”

Lydia smiles. “We knew you wouldn’t believe us if we told you,” she says. “So us and the boys got together and, well…we sorta planned this.”

“He’s not lying?” You don’t know what you’d do if you found out that this was just some childish prank.

Kaya shakes her head. “Absolutely not. You should heard the way Ace and Sebastian talk about Mr. P. They say he talks about you _all the time_.”

“You should go out there,” says Augusta. “Please, Miss __________. Now you know he feels the same way about you.”

You choke out a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it!” says Gratia, smiling. “C’mon, isn’t this everything you ever wanted?”

You swallow hard, nodding. Prompto has been everything you’ve ever wanted for most of your adolescent life. You can still hear him practicing his lines. The girls help you up, and you shoulder your backpack tighter, exhaling as you break through the trees into the clearing.

“Ah!” Prompto jumps back in surprise as he sees you approaching, looking sheepishly from Dominic in the dress and wig and back to you. “Hey, uh, hey __________! We were just uh…the boys wanted to rehearse a play to surprise you guys tonight, so we were just…”

His voice trails as you march right up to him, cupping his sharp freckled cheeks in your hands, and press a fierce kiss against his lips. You hear all of your girls burst out of the surrounding woods in whistles and cheers—most of the boys cheer as well, but there’s some obvious gagging sounds being made. Ah well. What can you do with teenagers, anyway?

You pull back after several seconds and look up into his wide eyes, dropping your hands form his face His mouth is hanging open and he’s looking at you like he’s in an enchanted daze.

“I—you—you _kissed_ me!” he squeaks, gingerly touching his pink lips.

Looking away in sudden embarrassment, you nod, licking your lips. “I, uh. You’re not really rehearsing a play, are you, Prom?”

Prompto sighs, caught. “No,” he mutters. “Little bastards told me you wouldn’t overhear.” He looks up and around to Blue Cabin 4. “Liars!” he yells with a laugh. He shakes his head.

“Looks like my girls were in on it too,” you say, nodding back at the cluster of teens gathered near the edge of the meadow.

“We really got saddled with the best of the best this year, didn’t we?” Prompto laughs.

You smile up at him. “Yeah, we did.” You cough. “So, uh…it’s true?”

Prompto blinks, slowly nodding. “I, uh—well yeah. Yeah it’s true.”

“You like me.”

“I’ve had a crush on you for like. Literally years.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Dude, c’mon! You know how I am, I can’t just…I couldn’t take the chance of you not liking me back. I valued our friendship too much. I didn’t want to make things awkward.”

“I can’t believe it,” you say. “All this time, like—when you would sing by the fire, I was always wondering what it would feel like to have you sing just to me.”

“I _was_ singing to you,” says Prompto, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. “Every. Single. Time.”

The gentle brush of his fingers makes you shiver. “All the years climbing through my window…”

“Jumping fences to restricted areas just to take goofy pictures…”

“Falling asleep in the same bed…”

“It’s always been you,” says Prompto with finality. He leans down, tilting your double chin up in his slender fingers. “I’m sorry I never told you. But the cat’s out of the bag now. Can we kiss again?”

“The kids are gonna get tired of watching us,” you say.

Prompto smiles and looks up. “All right, gremlins! You’ve done your due diligence. Head to the cabins, we’ll be there in a minute!”

“Finally, now I can take this stupid disguise off,” says Dominic, throwing off the old drama club wig.

Prompto watches as Blue Cabins 2 and 4 meet up, high fiving and fist-bumping and slinging arms around each others’ shoulders, moving as a unit through the trees to the cabins. He turns back to you.

You’d been watching the kids as well, but you feel his heated gaze and you glance up at him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says softly. “I—you’re so _good,_ you’re just—I feel like I don’t deserve you, honestly. That’s kinda why I never said anything…”

You shake your head again in disbelief. “I can’t…I can’t believe _you_ like me. Prompto. You’re like…you’re gorgeous.”

The blond blushes instantly. “Nah,” he says. “Not me.”

“Yeah you. I mean, girls like me…we don’t usually end up with the man of our dreams.”

“Well, it’s happening, _____________. There’s no one else I’d rather be with,” Prompto purrs, before leaning down to kiss you like it’s the last thing he’s ever going to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooooooooooo I'm so sorry for the long absence on this, my motivation and muse have been shit lately. Thanks for sticking with me so far. Chapter 10 is gonna be an epilogue, after camp--but I really hope you've enjoyed being a counselor at Camp Catoblepas. This has been fun (albeit tiring) to write. Thank you so much to my regular readers. I really love you guys.


	10. Epilogue

_Thwap!_

You look up from where you’re packing to your window, grinning at the familiar sound. You drop the last of your manga collection into the large cardboard box and rise to your feet, crossing your nearly-empty room with a spring in your step. You look out of your window, and Prompto is standing there, tossing a second pebble in his hand, grinning from ear to ear.

You’d never really paid attention before, but the evidence is there—your window is absolutely pockmarked with little scratches from Prompto’s six straight years of rock-throwing. You wince, hoping that with maybe your first Crownsgaurd check, you can afford to buy your parents a new window. You flick the lock and slide up the pane, leaning forward to rest on the sill with folded arms.

“Hey asshole, you know my window’s pretty scratched up, right?”

“Bet,” says Prompto, pocketing the pebble. “You ready to go? My stuff’s in the U-Haul already.”

“Almost,” you nod. “Just finishing up a few small things.”

“Cool, cool. I can come up and help?”

“Well duh,” you say, smiling wide. “I mean, it’s not like we’re dating or anything.”

Prompto’s pretty freckled face lights up. “It feels really good to say that.”

You nod. Even though camp has been over for weeks—don’t think of the tearful goodbye with the kids _don’t think of the tearful goodbyes with the kids_ —your budding relationship with Prompto is still pretty fresh. You’d both passed the Crownsguard test with flying colors—Prompto was a given, but your marksmanship and sword fighting had surprised even you, and the Marshal saw promise, especially with your affinity for elemancy. Your private lessons with Nyx had already started, and you had almost daily training with Noct, Ignis, and Gladio to get stronger and learn to fight fluidly alongside them. And now that you’re eighteen, you’re moving into the barracks that are near the Citadel, where most of the Kingsglaive and Crownsguard live. A two-bedroom, two-bathroom unit had been cleaned and refurbished for both you and Prompto.

“You gonna make my dad mad again, or are you taking your chances at the front door?” you tease. 

As if on cue, your father pokes his head in the door, carrying a large plastic tub in his hands. He sighs. “You talkin’ to that punk again? Ask him if his military stipend is gonna replace my damn window.” But he smiles, shaking his head. “I really can’t believe it. My baby, a _Crownsguard._ Moving out, gonna protect our prince. I’m really proud of you.”

You smile, blushing and shaking your head. “Dad, don’t make a big deal out of it.”

He sets the tub in the middle of the empty floor and moves closer to the window, putting his hand on your shoulder. “It is a big deal, sweetheart. I really, really mean it. I’m proud of you for following your dreams.”

There’s a racket on the siding, and then a black-gloved hand grips the windowsill—you move back to let Prompto climb in. The blond goes rigid as he comes face to face with your father, who levels his steely-eyed gaze at your boyfriend.

“Son,” he sighs. “You do know we have a front door?”

“Uh, yes sir!” Prompto shrinks back a little, moving behind you.

“Hey, don’t make me the meat shield!” you yelp.

“Prompto,” says your dad, all serious.

“Yes, Mr. _________?” Prompto gulps.

He reaches out his hand, and Prompto tentatively takes it, gripping it tight in his fingerless gloves.

“Take care of her,” he says quietly.

Prompto’s bright blue eyes go wide and he nods furiously. “Oh, uh, yes sir, yeah, definitely. I, uh. I mean I care about _____________ a lot, so…”

Your dad nods, looking at you. “I know. I’m proud of you—both of you. Now finish packing and get out of here so I can sit in your empty room and cry.”

“Oh, my gods. Dad.” You groan, pushing him out into the hallway as he begins to mock wail in sadness.

______

There’s a buzzing sound that slowly brings you out of consciousness, and you groan in the darkness, groaning as you turn over and reach for the bedside table.

There’s shuffling beside you, and then Prompto turns over in his sleep, sighing heavily.

You still can’t help but flush red, knowing how scantily clad you and Prompto are under the sheets. Noct’s housewarming gift to you and Prompto had been a new bedroom suite, complete with a king bed, and it was only natural that the two of you had fallen into staying in the same room. There’s no one you else that you could’ve imagined giving yourself to—the apartment might be small, and not really your own; but already, you and Prompto have made some lasting memories.

Fumbling with your phone, you see Noct’s face on the screen, and the time—it’s already eleven am.

“Shit,” you say, not realizing that it was so late. You swipe the screen. “Noct?”

“Mornin’, sleepyhead,” the prince laughs. “Ignis, Gladio, and I were wondering if you and Prompto wanted to get brunch at that new little café that just opened up downtown.”

“Uh, yeah sure—I’ll get Prom up and we’ll be there as soon as we can. Text us the address?”

“I’ll send a car,” says Noctis.

“No, we’ll take the bus, it’s okay!”

“Dude. You guys are my Crownsguard. It’s fine. The car will be there in an hour.”

“Thanks Noct,” you murmur sheepishly. “Let me get going so we’ll be ready, okay?”

“See you guys soon!”

You hang up and set the phone back on the bedside table, turning back toward Prompto.

The sleepy blond is wide awake now, smiling softly at you with his big blue eyes. “Good morning, gorgeous,” he whispers, reaching out to touch you.

“Hi,” you breathe, shivering as he drags his slender fingers over the curve of your shoulder. “That was Noct. We’re meeting the guys for brunch.”

“Foooooooood,” sings Prompto as he buries his face into the soft downy pillow. “I’m gonna eat a plate of waffles as big as my head.”

“C’mon, lets get showered and dressed. Noct is sending us a car.”

“Ugh, too fancy. Why can’t we just take the bus?”

“I tried to tell him,” you sigh, already pulling back the covers and reveling in the soft shaggy rug that’s beside the bed.

“Don’t leave me,” Prompto mumbles into the pillow.

“C’mon, sleeping beauty. Why don’t we save water and shower together?”

Prompto’s head lifts up and he looks at you with a hungry gaze. “Mmmmm, an appetizer to brunch,” he says, scrambling from the bed in a hurry.

You laugh as he comes around to give you a hug, breaking out into goosebumps as he presses himself flush against you, pulling away a minute later with a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Ugh, I still need to do laundry,” you sigh, looking at the dresser as Prompto pulls you up from the bed. “Hey—why don’t we both wear this year’s Camp Catoblepas shirts out to the cafe? Pretty sure those are clean, at least.”

Prompto grins wide and beautiful. “Sounds perfect to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for entertaining this dumb summer camp idea I had. Love you guys!


End file.
